Retribution
by Paulina Ann
Summary: HB Sequel to "Recovery." Boys are 18/17. The Hardys are trying to recover from the events of the past year but persons from Joe's past come into his present. How will the family deal with what happens and will Marilyn Laird finish what her husband started?
1. Chapter 1

**Retribution**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book. The OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story putting the boys into their age norm for a lot of cannon and fanfic stories. Story progression: "Cheaters Never Prosper," "Fall Thievery," and "Valentine Dilemma" (boys in 5th & 6th grades). The boys age to 17 and 16 for "Taken" and "Recovery" with Frank turning 18 at the end of the story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended. I will be writing more stories set between "Valentine Dilemma" and "Taken" so check my profile page for the most up to date listing of stories.

 **Author's Notes:** And I'm back! Surprise! This chapter is short, sorry! The story is complete so I won't leaving you hanging long between chapters! Hope you enjoy.

*Eeek! Had a couple of typos in the disclaimer and my author's notes. A 'kind' guest was happy to inform me about them and didn't like the first line of the chapter because it was confusing (and I'm not saying it isn't). They said they gave up after reading that. So, I've fixed the typos, but I've left the line as is. I really don't mind people sending in corrections or letting me know about typos (which won't get fixed for awhile because I hate re-uploading unless I just can't stand the error). But please, if you're going to give me corrections, login and send it and not do it as a guest. At least I don't have to worry about them in the future as they have given up on my story. Hope the rest of you can manage to muddle through my story. Just remember, it's me and not my editor. ;-) *sigh* Sorry, I think I'm rambling... Actually, I know I am. *sigh* Probably will regret posting this section. You may see that it disappears in the future. ;-D

* * *

 **Retribution:** _punishment inflicted on someone as vengeance for a wrong or criminal act_

 _.**********._

 **Chapter One**

Joe laughed at his brother Frank as he tossed the video controller to the coffee table in front of him.

"You think I'd be able to beat you more often since you've got that cast on," Frank said in disgust as he crossed his arms and leaned back into the soft leather of the couch.

After a little more laughter, Joe sat his controller on the table and looked at his cast. "Well, most of the moves just require my right hand that isn't hampered by a cast. But I can tell you I'm looking forward to getting this thing off."

"At your next visit to the doctor, right?"

"Yeah, with Dr. Marlborough. I'll see him in a couple of weeks." Joe stared at the cast a moment and then looked over to see his brother watching him thoughtfully. "It's been five weeks since I fell."

Frank kept his eyes on his brother. "Since you were pushed."

Joe looked away. "Yeah. Pushed."

Frank and Joe were home for the extended Martin Luther King holiday in January. They had off the Monday plus the Friday before and the Tuesday after for teacher workdays. A lot of kids went off skiing or some type of mini-vacation. The Hardys had decided to stay at home since Joe still had his cast and he had just recovered from the deep abdominal bruising that was a result of his fall.

Frank let out a long breath. Joe knew his brother hadn't meant to turn his thoughts to the depressing events of the previous month. Turning back toward his brother, Joe said, "It's okay, Frank. You're right. I was pushed and I need to use the words that correctly describe what happened." Dr. Childers had told him that he needed to be honest with himself about what happened. He had already had a few sessions with the doctor individually and there was a family session schedule for the next week. "It's just really crappy to face what happened, you know?" Joe stayed focused on his brother.

"Just make sure you learn from your mistakes. That's all we ask," Frank responded. Then after a moment, he asked, "You want to talk?"

"Aren't you tired of hearing me say what an idiot I was?" Joe smiled sheepishly at his brother.

Seeing that Joe wasn't upset at the conversation, Frank joked back. "I never tire of hearing the truth, little brother."

Joe snorted and ignored the first half of Frank's comments and focused instead on the second half. "You're barely taller than me now. I'll probably pass you next year, big brother."

"In your dreams," Frank joked back. "Even if you end up taller than me and I'm not saying that you will, I'll still be older so that will always make me the big brother."

Affection shone through Joe's eyes as he responded, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Frank didn't say anything but looked at his younger brother seriously.

Recognizing that Frank was touched by his comments, Joe decided to continue in that vein of thought in regards to the previous month. "I'm sorry that I all but shut you out." Joe shook his head and was unable to look his brother in the eye so he turned his gaze straight ahead. "I know that Dr. Childers is a trained therapist and I need to talk with him. But you should have been the person that I went to at home not Camille. I shouldn't have relied so much on someone I didn't really know."

"You thought that she could help you. I don't fault you for that, Joe. I just wish I could have been a better brother to you."

Joe turned to Frank with a startled expression. "What are you talking about? You tried to warn me and I was defensive. Anytime you tried to point out something about Camille, I pushed you away and moved closer to her." Joe shook his head again and laid it back against the couch. "Idiot."

"I think you can stop calling yourself an idiot and count your blessings that you're alive and pretty much okay." Frank smiled at his brother's profile as Joe wasn't willing to look him in the eye right now. "We've established that you not listening to your wiser and taller older brother wasn't a smart thing, but I don't want you to replace the guilt you felt over Morgan with this."

Joe began to smile and shifted his gaze from the ceiling to his brother once again. "I won't." His smile continued as he said, "This time I'll listen to my older brother. Just remember you're older but not better looking."

Frank just started laughing as he picked up the control. "Rematch?"

"Sure, I need to remind you again of who's the better driver."

"Only in the video game," Frank responded bringing up the racing game.

Joe laughed. "In your dreams, Frank. You may be older and taller, but I'm the better driver."

Frank just smiled as the game started. For the first time since the beginning of November, Frank felt his brother was back. This time, he'd fight anyone that tried to bring his brother down, no matter the consequences.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** I am glad to have made so many of you happy with the story posting. I hope you continue to enjoy. And _tinks_ , to answer your question, it was the first sentence. :-)

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

That night Joe had a series of dreams that had him thrashing in his bed. They were odd combinations of his time with Laird and doing things with Camille. The worst one was a nightmare where he was at the Haunted Hollows with Camille and the place was empty and they were standing at the open floor-length door on the barn's second floor where hay would normally be pulled up. Only this time there was no hay on the ground below. Instead, Dominic Laird appeared below with a pistol.

"It's time for you to stop cheating death, Joseph!" the vision of Laird said.

Joe tried to step back from the window but Camille was partially behind him, keeping him from stepping away from the edge. He turned to her and said, "Move back, Camille. We've got to get away from here."

But the dream Camille only smiled and stepped up close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I can make you feel better, Joe." She pulled him into a kiss and when she pulled back, she said, "We're perfect for each other."

"No," Joe said in his dream. "No, we're not. You're wrong."

An angry look came over Camille's visage as she stepped back and then said, "I want you, Joe. We have so much in common. We can help each other. If you just let me, I could help you forget."

Joe shook his head, "No."

Then in a couple of steps, Camille moved forward and pushed him backwards through the open window and he was falling to meet the fate that Laird had intended for him on the shore of Lake Superior. Before he could dream of his painful landing on the ground, he sat up gasping for air. Running a shaky hand through his sweat-dampened hair, Joe tried to collect himself. Nothing like that had ever happened to him… had it? Camille had told him that she had kissed him. Was he starting to remember what occurred the night of December 5th? Joe dropped back into his bed. The doctor said that his memory of the events could come back in pieces. Were they starting to come back in the form of dreams? Recalling his nightmare, Joe thought, _Maybe it would be best not to remember_. He could still feel the frantic beating of his heart and knew it would be awhile before he would be able to sleep.

Church the following morning was rough on Joe. He hadn't slept well and the dark smudges under his eyes announced it to everyone. Thankfully, everyone seemed to accept the answer that he had had some bad dreams. Everyone that is, but Frank. He knew that Frank wasn't going to let it go.

After lunch, Joe announced he was going to take a walk.

Laura looked out the window. It was overcast and barely forty degrees. "It's not very nice out for a walk."

Pulling on his heavy jacket that had a hood, he replied, "I know it's not, but I just need to clear my head." Joe didn't miss the glance that his mother gave his brother.

Frank stood as well and said, "I think I'll come with you."

Smiling, Joe pulled on his gloves and said, "Somehow I'm not surprised." Joe walked over to his mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "It's okay, mom."

It was a weak smile that Laura returned to him as she patted his arm.

Joe just nodded to his dad who seemed to understand that he needed some time and space and headed outside with Frank following behind him.

About a block down the road, Joe said, "I had several nightmares last night. They were weird. Laird and Camille were both in them."

"Well, that is a nightmare," Frank said carefully.

"Yeah. The thing is, I think some of what I dreamed may have been real."

"What do you mean?"

"Some of the things matched up with what Camille told me happened and it just seemed so- real." Joe shook his head. His breath came out of his mouth in small clouds of white vapor. "It's hard to describe. I just feel like I'm remembering."

Frank watched his brother carefully. "Are you upset by it?"

"Well, yeah. I mean it was a nightmare. I think when I remember what happened I'll be able to deal with it and go on. It's just that in a dream, there's not much escape."

"Does it change how you feel about your impact statement?" Frank asked his brother as they came to a stop.

Joe shook his head in a negative fashion. "No. I know that none of you are happy with what I said or what her sentence was. But I don't think that anything I remember will change how I feel."

Joe remembered back to what had happened the week before Christmas…

Camille had thought that she would be tried as a juvenile, but in New York, sixteen is the age at which you can be tried as an adult. With the evidence on tape and the words from her own mouth indicating that she had intended to kill him two different times, there wasn't any option but to plea bargain. Con had told him that with Camille trying to murder him on two separate occasions that were days apart, a temporary insanity defense was unlikely. It might have worked for pushing him off the cliff but not for the premeditation that she put into her second attempt.

The Hardys had been surprised when Camille's lawyer had asked to speak to Joe about the sentencing. Con had already told them back when Joe came home from the hospital that the DA was recommending a mental facility and a women's prison with an as yet undetermined amount of time. Fenton and Laura had sat in on the meeting and were appalled at what the defense attorney asked. They wanted Joe to indicate that he wanted a minimum sentence with psychiatric components. Fenton and Laura had voiced their thoughts on it quite loudly as Joe had sat quietly. He had surprised them when he said loudly, "I'll do it." His parents had tried to convince him that a minimum sentence wasn't necessarily best but he had been adamant.

"She's just _**sixteen**_ for crying out loud!" he had shouted at his parents after the lawyers left.

"A sixteen year old who tried to kill you! Twice!" Laura had voiced loudly in return.

"She needs mental help, not a long prison sentence," Joe responded. He pointed to himself. "Imagine if it were me. I'm sixteen. If they gave me fifteen years, I'd be thirty-one when I got out. Can you imagine that?" Joe shook his head at their silence. "She was wrong and I was an idiot to give her a second opportunity. _I'm_ the one that gave her the opportunity to plan my death." Joe closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around his mid-section. It was still very painful.

The muscle in Fenton's jaw twitched as he said, "Obviously you're not going to change your mind and we're not going to change ours."

The prosecution had gone with a recommendation of seven years with psychiatric help. Parole possible in five years.

Joe's thoughts returned to the present and he looked at his brother. "The earliest she'll get out is in five years. Hopefully she'll be ready to move on with her life." He could tell that Frank still wasn't happy. The muscle twitch that was so like their father was once again on display along Frank's jaw line. "Thanks for listening." He knew it was hard for Frank to just listen and not voice his opinion. Joe already knew what it was and they both knew that it was subject that was best left alone.

"So, are you going to tell mom and dad that you're remembering?"

Joe thought for a moment. "Yeah, I'll tell them. It's nothing any of us can control. We'll just have to wait and see."

The two brothers turned around and made their way back to the house.

Joe was true to his word and told his parents that night. Thankfully, they were understanding and didn't seem worried.

When he went to sleep that night he wondered if he would have any more dreams. Not long after falling asleep, he did. This time, the setting was the cliffs along Shore Drive and it was just him and Camille. When he awoke from that dream, he had the answers that he had been looking for. Some pieces were still missing but he remembered the kiss and his rejecting her. He remembered trying to console her at the top of the cliff and he remembered that she pushed him.

Getting out of his bed at midnight, he looked outside to the darkness where the old tree fort was. _Way too cold out there tonight_. Instead of dwelling on where he couldn't go, he went through the connecting bathroom. He stood for a moment on the cold bathroom tile and then he knocked on his brother's door. Frank came to the door after only a few moments. Frank took one look at his brother and pulled him into a hug.

"I remember it, Frank. I remember."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** People were wondering if Joe remembering is good or bad. Nothing good or bad will come directly from him remembering. I just couldn't leave Joe hanging out there with only Camille's word for what happened. I thought it was time to give him some closure with that. ;-) Now your reward for two short chapters: a nice long one!

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

A couple of weeks later, Frank and Joe went out with Chet, Iola, Callie, and Madison Grayson. Chet had just started going out with Madison after Christmas and she was new to the group but was familiar enough with the events that Joe had been through to not say anything out of turn. While Joe and Iola weren't officially together again, they still did things with the group which ended up pairing them together. When Frank had 'innocently' suggested that they all go ice skating after their pizza, Joe had shot him a very pointed look that was ignored by his brother. When everyone but Iola had responded with what a great idea it was, Joe knew it was a set-up. He was supposed to be responsible and that meant he wouldn't skate because of his broken arm and recent injuries. He knew his mother would kill him if he broke something else before he was healed. If he sat out, Iola would too to keep him company. It was the kind of person she was.

"Well, I don't think that's such a hot idea," Joe said. "You know mom would kill me if I went skating." Joe narrowed his eyes at his brother and added, "In fact, I think she might just kill you for suggesting it."

Frank looked at his brother with such a fake innocent act that Joe almost laughed as Frank said, "It was actually mom that suggested we go skating."

Joe stared at his brother for a moment and then realized that his mom probably had agreed knowing that he and Iola would sit it out. After grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, Joe walked briskly out of the restaurant without looking at his brother again.

Chet and Madison were already at the door when Joe walked past them and out the door. Chet looked back to Frank, Callie, and Iola and asked, "What's up with him?"

"He probably doesn't like to be manipulated into something he doesn't want to do," Iola said with a frown. "How could you, Frank?" Grabbing her own jacket, Iola headed out passed her stunned brother and his date.

"Well, that was awkward," Madison said as she looked at the three remaining speechless friends.

Frank looked at Callie and said, "I thought you told her what we were doing."

"Seriously, Frank?" Callie's voice was filled with exasperation. "Do you think she would have agreed to it?" Callie sat back down and waved to the waitress.

"What are you doing?" Frank asked Callie as Chet and Madison came back over to the table.

"I'm ordering a chocolate milkshake." Callie gave her order to the waitress and patted the seat of the chair next to her. "Come on and have a seat. I think it might be while."

Chet looked from Callie to Frank to the door that Joe and Iola had gone out. When he looked back to Callie, he said, "I don't understand. I thought we were going skating."

"We might, but first we've got to give them some time."

Frank looked at his girlfriend with eyes wide with surprise. "You knew this was going to happen."

Crossing her arms on the table, Callie leaned forward. "I'm not one to manipulate, but we all agreed that this whole 'giving each other space' thing was ridiculous when it's obvious that they want to be together again." The waitress brought her milkshake and she took a long sip as the others placed orders of their own. When the waitress left, Callie looked at Frank. "We talked about how Joe wasn't going to like this but that he'd go along with it if he felt there wasn't a way out."

"Soooooo," Chet said looking at Callie in confusion.

Callie smiled as she played with her straw. "Joe goes out to the van angry at us for manipulating the situation. Iola follows him to let him know she didn't have anything to do with it."

"And that's supposed to help in… what way?" Chet asked.

Madison laughed as she patted his arm. "They're out there commiserating together at how Frank and Callie were trying to force them into talking."

Chet looked in confusion from Madison to Frank and Callie.

Frank took pity on his friend and said, "Instead of forcing them together at the skating rink where there'd be noise and other people around, they're out there in the van together. It's perfect, Callie." He stopped talking as the waitress put his shake in front of him and then looked back at her with a smile. "You ready to have both Joe and Iola irritated at us for awhile?"

"If it gets them back together instead of this awkward stuff that's been going on, then yeah, I'm cool with that."

Chet laughed as he got it. "You two were made for each other."

Frank laughed and winked at Callie.

.**********.

Joe angrily pushed the unlock button on the key remote. He was even mumbling to himself as he climbed into the back of the van and shut the door. It was only a few moments later that the door opened and Iola got in and sat in the seat next to him. He turned to her not with irritation but with commiseration. "I'm sorry, Iola. I don't know what Frank was thinking."

Iola turned and glanced through the open van door and saw that no one had followed her. Reaching over, she pressed the button for the auto-shut. "Think you can turn on the van and get some heat going in here? I think they plan on leaving us out here for awhile."

Muttering under his breath, Joe moved between the two front seats to put his keys in the ignition and started the van. As he sat back down, he said, "Maybe if we go ahead and talk now, he'll give up on this ice skating idea." He looked at Iola critically as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you. You'd sit out the whole time with me so that I wouldn't have to sit by myself.

Coloring a light shade of pink, Iola responded, "Probably." She lifted her chin and said, "I don't think that Frank was alone in this. Callie probably knew in advance."

"Chet?"

"Probably not. He's always been awful at keeping things like that secret."

Joe could feel the heat finally starting to take the chill off the coldness in the van. Dropping his arms to his sides, he asked, "So, do you want to talk?"

"I think you already know what I'd say."

"You want to get back together."

"Yes." Iola paused a moment and continued. "I know you do too. You basically said it the night of Frank's birthday party."

Joe looked away from Iola. "What I want and what is a good idea aren't always the same thing."

"Are you saying that we're not a good thing? Because if you are, I don't believe you."

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying that being my girlfriend hasn't been a good thing for you lately." Joe looked away. "The whole thing with the kidnapping. What you went through when you went back to school."

"That's all in the past, Joe-"

Joe's tone turned deadly serious as he looked back at Iola. "But what if it's not? Marilyn Laird is still out there. She's going to come for me. I don't want you to get hurt when she does."

"So are you going to move out of the house or what?" Iola said as she leaned back in the seat and crossed her arms.

"What?" Joe asked with a confused look. "Move out?"

"Yeah. To protect Frank and your parents because I'm sure that Marilyn wouldn't have any qualms about hurting them."

Joe gave her a look that showed he was irked. "They're my family. They know what's involved."

Iola leaned forward and would have poked him in the chest with her finger if he had been closer. "I KNOW what's involved, Joe Hardy. I was in that basement too, remember?"

His eyes took on a haunted look and suddenly they were both back in that basement. Joe's voice was soft as he looked her in the eye and said, "I remember it all too well, Iola. I remember praying that they didn't touch you. I prayed that they would keep me and let you go. I remember my relief that it wasn't you when they striped me and hosed me off so they could ship me to another state to be sold." He finally let his eyes fall to the floor where he looked at her feet. "So, yeah, I remember. And that's why I don't want you to be the victim of that again just because you're my girlfriend."

There was a quiet rustle and suddenly, she was in his field of vision as he looked at the floor. Now instead of seeing the gray floor carpet and mats, he saw Iola's pale face looking back up at him. Joe sat still as she reached up and gently ran her fingers along his jaw and spoke. "Don't you think that Marilyn already knows about me? Don't you think she knows how much we care about each other? Unless you cut Chet and me off completely, people will know. We can't help it, Joe. We show our emotions on our sleeves much of the time and anyone looking at me can see how I feel about you." He stared into the green depths of her eyes as she continued, "And when you look at me, I know you feel the same."

Drawn by an invisible magnet, Joe leaned down and gently brushed his lips against hers as his eyes closed and his fingers threaded through her hair. In a moment, he pulled back and stared at her again.

"No more keeping me at arm's length?" Iola asked him shyly.

"No," he whispered back as he leaned forward to kiss her again.

Both pulled back quickly as the side door opened and Chet's voice sounded across the parking lot. "Yeah, I think they've worked it out." Climbing into the van, Chet and Madison moved to the back while the front doors opened and Frank and Callie climbed in.

Frank turned off the engine for a moment as he exchanged his keys for Joe's. Tossing them to his brother in the seat behind him, he winked and said, "No need to thank me, little brother."

Joe just shook his head and turned to smile at Iola. He didn't care if they went ice skating now. He'd be happy to sit on a bench with Iola.

.**********.

Frank and Joe were laughing as they entered the house. They had dropped off everyone after going to the ice rink for about an hour. Laura looked up from her e-reader as the boys entered. It was wonderful to see the two of them laughing and joking again. The last couple of months had been incredibly trying for the family and had put a strain on her two sons and their relationship. As she put the reader on her lap, she innocently asked, "Everything go all right?"

"Seriously, mom?" Joe asked. "Frank ratted you out pretty early."

Laura raised her eyebrow as she turned toward Frank. "Oh, he did?"

Frank squirmed a little under his mom's level gaze and then shrugged as he answered, "I had to. He was using you as an out. If we wanted to get him and Iola to talk, then I had to pull out all the stops."

"So it worked?"

"Yeah, mom. It did," Joe said quietly. "Iola and I are good." Laura continued to look at him so he smiled and added, "Like boyfriend-girlfriend good."

A bright smile lit Laura's face as she responded with a simple, "Good." Her smile continued as the boys headed up the steps, their banter continuing as they went.

.**********.

Fenton came out of his office as the boys headed up the stairs to get showers. He cleared his throat and Laura looked up from her e-reader once again. His expression must have been serious as Laura put the device on the couch and turned her body more to face him.

"Is there something wrong?" her voice held a note of concern.

Fenton glanced to the stairs and then back to his wife. "I have something you should read." As she stood up, he turned back down the hall to his home office. When Laura entered the room, he spun the office chair around and indicated that she should sit. "I have an email you should read."

"Okay," Laura said slowly. Seating herself, she turned the chair toward Fenton's laptop on the desk.

Fenton watched her as she read the email; he couldn't tell what she was feeling from the back. However, when she turned around he knew without a doubt.

"You've got to be kidding me, Fenton. You're not considering this are you?" her voice was full of righteous indignation.

"It's not something that I want to do, but I don't think I should make a final decision without talking to Joe."

Laura closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, making it creak. After a moment she opened her eyes and looked up at her husband. "Don't you think it's too soon to bring this up to Joe? I mean, he's just remembered what happened last month with Camille. I don't want to bring up other nightmares for him."

"I don't either, Laura, but I'm also working to build Joe's trust up again. If he ever learned about the email and I didn't tell him, it would be a setback." He let out a deep breath. "And there's the fact that it would just be wrong to keep it from him."

Laura stood and walked to the door and stopped within its frame. "I'll have the boys come down after their showers. We should go ahead and get it out in the open tonight."

Fenton nodded and Laura left. He walked back to the laptop and his eyes focused on the email on the screen. From: _sandyr22_ , subject: _Please don't delete, George's wife._

.**********.

An hour later, the boys were in Fenton's office. Joe was sitting at the computer desk and Frank was standing behind him.

Joe's eyes skimmed over the email and noted the sender: _sandyr22_ and the subject: _Please don't delete, George's wife_. There was only one George that it would be. George Rand. The man that had been his jailer at Dominic Laird's. The man serving a life sentence for what he did. The man who was the reason he lived in Michigan instead of dying on the shores of Lake Superior.

 _Dear Mr. Hardy,_

 _I have no right to ask anything of you but I am. I don't have anywhere else to turn and I'm desperate. In September, some of Olivia's test results came back inconclusive. She had to have more tests run. Thankfully, she's all right. But the insurance we have now doesn't cover a lot of things related to Olivia's cancer. Things are difficult and we don't have a lot of money. But that's not why I'm writing you. It's our own fault that we're in this. Not yours and not your son's._

 _It's Rachel, my older daughter who's 15. She became despondent after Olivia's recent test results. She's also angry. She's furious at her father. She feels that he chose your son over his family. She's run away. The note she left said that Olivia and I would be better off without her around. She said that I'd have more money to spend on Olivia if she were gone._

 _She's been missing since December 1_ _st_ _. The police found video showing her getting onto a train heading north, but they haven't found any footage of her getting off. They haven't had any new information in over a month. I don't know where to turn. I can't afford to hire a private investigator. Help me. Please. Help Rachel._

 _Sandy_

Joe closed his eyes and shuddered as his breathing quickened. It was never going to end. There would always be something. He opened his eyes and saw the email once again. It was there. It was real and his family was standing behind him. Joe could practically feel them and the tension that he knew had to be there. They wouldn't want to put him through anything that would bring up memories of his captivity. But could he live with that? Rachel and Olivia were innocent and for all he knew, Sandy hadn't known anything. She had no charges against her and now she was left alone with a child fighting a chronic illness and another one who ran away. His decision made, he pushed back from the desk and stood. He didn't want to be sitting and looking up at the three of them.

"So what do you think?" Frank asked neutrally as Joe stood.

"I want to help her." Joe saw Frank's jaw muscle twitch again but he pressed on. "Sandy and the girls are innocent. They didn't have any part in what happened to me." His voice was quiet as spoke. His gaze level as he looked into his brother's eyes and then each of his parents. "I couldn't live with myself if we didn't try."

"You're sure, Joe?" Laura asked.

"Yes," was Joe's succinct response.

Frank groaned and looked back at the email on the screen. "You know how I feel about George Rand."

"Yeah, I know you all feel." Joe's voice was back to its normal tone. "I also know that none of you hold others accountable for things out of their control."

Frank looked back to the screen. "It's a lot easier to be philosophical when it doesn't involve your brother's life."

Fighting his natural urge to shift from foot to foot, Joe looked over to his father. If his dad thought for one moment that this was going to cause a setback in his therapy, there would be no help for Sandy and Rachel Rand.

"This could bring up unwelcome memories, Joe," Fenton said. "You've been through so much the last couple of months."

"I brought a lot of that on myself," Joe said ruefully. "I know that none of you cared or care for George." All of his family had been opposed to the letter that Joe had written in support of George at the time of his sentencing. He had not gone to any of the hearings to give his impact statement. Except for Laird, all had immediately accepted plea bargains. It had just been too soon after what Joe had been through for him to immediately go into a face to face with those that had put him in a hell of a situation. Impact statements had been provided when requested, but Joe had stayed away from direct contact. Now, his family was concerned about this contact with George's wife and what it would do to him. Battling physical injuries and depression had not made him out to be pillar of strength.

"It's not George we're worried about, Joe," Laura said as she rose from the chair. "Your father can try to help direct Sandy to some people that might help her pro bono as well as help find funding for Olivia's care. We don't need to be directly involved."

"I'm sure she's already looked for free help. It's not there or they feel that they don't have anything to go on," Joe said as he looked from his mother to his father. "Dad, you're the best. If you say there's nothing there after you look, I'll let it go."

Fenton stared into Joe's eyes. "If I say there's nothing to find, you'll let it go?"

Joe's gaze didn't falter. "I'll let it go. I won't go Lone Ranger on this."

"I'll handle all contact with Sandy. If she contacts you you'll let me know and it's the end of the case." Fenton was deadly serious as he looked from one son to the other. "I won't have her laying guilt on you for Olivia or Rachel. If you want me to work this case, this is the way it has to be."

Joe saw his mother nod and knew that there wasn't any other option for him. And to be honest, he could live with his dad's mandates. "Okay. That's the way it'll be. Just let me know how things are going?"

Fenton nodded and then looked to Frank and said, "No involvement on your part either."

Frank nodded his agreement.

Seeing the discussion was over, Joe turned and left the room with his brother following him

.**********.

After the boys left, Fenton felt Laura's hand on his arm. He sighed and turned to her, "What choice did I have?"

"There's always a choice, Fenton," she said. "And I think you made the right one."

Fenton turned to her in surprise. "I didn't think you'd agree with my decision, but when you didn't voice any opposition, I assumed that you were okay with it. But I didn't think you'd agree with it."

Laura's tone was serious as she responded. "I can't forgive George Rand for what he allowed Joe to go through but blaming his family would be like the way Morgan's mother blames Joe. There was nothing they could have done to help Joe. George Rand is the one to blame, not a mother and two young girls."

"There's one thing I'm worried about," Fenton said as Laura looked up at him. "Sandy says that Rachel blames Joe. The last thing Joe needs is another female with an agenda against him."

Fenton saw Laura's eyes cloud with concern as she put a hand on his chest. "You don't think she'd come here?"

"With Joe's luck, I'm not willing to rule out anything. It's another reason why I agreed to help. I need to know where Rachel Rand is." As his wife wrapped her arms around him he prayed that he would find Rachel easily and return her home. Pulling her close he laid his cheek against the top of her head and closed his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes** : You may be surprised to learn that Frank and Joe aren't in this chapter at all. However, I think you'll find it interesting. ;-)

A number of you were rather surprised to see the Rands in the story. I like to have a few surprises. ;-) I already had parts of this story in mind when I wrote "Taken" and purposefully wrote George as having two daughters. ;-) And "J," the reflection of Joe 'not being a pillar of strength' was meant to be more of a self-comment of Joe to himself. While he had been quite strong and tough, he doesn't necessarily see it that way as he's still recovering and is thinking about how others would view him.

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

 _Later the following week…_

Fenton sat awkwardly in the small apartment living room. He could hear Sandy Rand speaking to her younger daughter down the hallway.

"It's okay, Olivia. Mr. Hardy is here to help us find Rachel. I need to speak with him privately."

He couldn't hear the soft response of the young girl who was small for a ten year old. She was a pretty girl with medium blonde hair that was similar in shade to Joe's. Her dark brown eyes had searched his face fearfully when he had arrived. Sandy said that she had only told Olivia about his visit that morning as she didn't want to get the young girl's hopes up. Fenton however, didn't think he saw hope in her eyes but fear. He wasn't sure if it was because she feared him or because she knew something about her sister's disappearance. Talking to her would be imperative before he left. Sandy's voice came back to him.

"I'll call for you before he leaves." Soft footsteps sounded on the carpet runner in the hall and then she moved into his line of vision. As he stood she gestured for him to remain seated. Taking the seat across from him, she clasped her hands tightly together. "I can't thank you enough for coming, Mr. Hardy."

"Fenton, please," he paused as spoke carefully. "I'm here to do what I can."

With a glance toward the hallway, Sandy said, "While you never came out and said it, Fenton, I am sure that you're only here because Joe encouraged you to do this." When Fenton went to speak, she raised her hand and stalled him. "You don't have to apologize. What George did was unforgiveable for you and I understand that." She drew a deep breath and let it out. "But Olivia's alive and I can't say that I'm sorry for that." She looked Fenton in the eye and said, "The fact that you can put your feelings to the side and help me on this means the world to me and Olivia. We really have nowhere else to turn."

"Let me just say that I understand where you're coming from and I'm glad you can appreciate where I'm coming from. That being said, I haven't put my feelings to the side." Fenton leaned forward. "I do want to help you find her. A fifteen year doesn't need to be out on her own. But I'm also concerned about this anger you say she feels toward Joe."

Sandy looked genuinely startled by that statement. "She's just an angry teenage girl."

Fenton leaned back and said, "You'd be surprised at the damage a teenage girl can do." When Sandy still looked perplexed, he decided to share some personal information so she'd better understand where he was coming from in his protection of Joe. "I think you'll understand better if I tell you what happened to Joe in December." Fenton gave her a brief summary of what happened and ended with, "So I think you can see why I'd be concerned about anyone else with a possible grudge against Joe."

Sandy rubbed her hands along the arms of the chair she was sitting in. "I understand, Fenton. I just don't think," she hesitated. "Wait just a minute." She stood and went down the hallway. Fenton could hear the door to a room open and then close. When Sandy returned, she had a small spiral bound notebook. "This was a journal that Rachel kept." She handed it to Fenton.

Fenton flipped open a few pages. It started in January of last year and the sporadic entries indicated an overall happy teenager with the normal angst of a teenager. Entries about friends and boys abounded from January to the Fourth of July and then they changed. Greatly. Coinciding with the day that Joe was rescued, Rachel's entries become those of an anxious and scared girl. As the entries go into August, Rachel becomes angry in her entries. She's angry at her father and Joe. Fenton pales a little as he reads the words of a fifteen year old girl who's had her life ripped apart:

' _How can things change so fast? One day we're happy and everything is going great. I went from my biggest problem being a decision on what I want to listen to next on my iPod to deciding what things I want to keep because we're having to downsize to an apartment that's half the size of where we're living. My dad went from just being gone a lot because of his job to being an inmate at a prison. All because of one boy. It's amazing how one person can ruin your life.'_

Looking up from the entry he saw Sandy was focused on the hands in her lap. Fenton looked back down to the notebook in front of him and flipped forward to November. Entries here expressed concern for her sister and the expense of medical treatment. An entry caught his eye that was dated early in late November:

' _It's just too much. Mom has all she can deal with with Olivia. She doesn't understand why I'm angry at dad and that boy. She keeps talking about dad making bad choices and that the boy didn't do anything wrong. Of course he did something wrong! He got caught and ruined out lives! But of course mom doesn't understand. At least I have one person who does. She thinks the same way about that boy.'_

Fenton felt a chill come over him. Looking up, he asked Sandy, "Did the police look at this notebook?"

"Yes, they took it and made scans of it. But they said there was nothing in it that gave them any information about Rachel's disappearance. I just wanted you to see it to understand Rachel's frame of mind."

Fenton kept the notebook open to the entry and rotated the notebook toward Sandy and handed it back to her. "In the entry at the top of the page, she says that there is one person who understands how she feels about Joe. It indicates the person is a 'she.' Do you know who Rachel is talking about?"

Sandy's brow furrowed as she took the journal and read over the entry. Shaking her head, she said, "No. There's no one that I can think of specifically. Most of Rachel's friends rightfully told her that her dad was in the wrong and she stopped associating with them. I can't think of anyone that she was talking to in November that would have been of that mindset."

"The phone and text records you sent me indicated that most of her communication was with family. Could it have been your sister that she was talking about?"

Sandy gave a rueful laugh. "My sister has never liked George, so no. I doubt it was Lisa that Rachel was commiserating with." Sandy paused for a moment and asked, "You think this person may have assisted her in running away?"

Fenton reached out to take the notebook back from Sandy. "Possibly. Can I keep this for now?"

"Of course."

"I'd also like to look at whatever computer that Rachel would have access to here at home. I want to see what sites she went to as well as check her email."

Sandy stood and retrieved a tablet and brought it up and handed it to Fenton. "The police checked her email along with sent and deleted messages and found nothing that was unusual or unexpected."

Fenton's fingers flew over the screen keyboard. "Did they check various social sites and chat rooms that she frequented?"

"Yes. I have a list of the user names and passwords that they gained access to. I can get them for you."

"That would be helpful." Fenton looked at something on the screen briefly and then back up to Sandy. "I'll be in town for a few days. I'd like to take the journal and the tablet and see what I can find. I'll get them back to you before I leave town."

Hope shown in Sandy's eyes. "Thank you, Fenton."

Fenton looked away as he said, "I know what it's like to have a child missing." He turned back to see the stricken look on her face and he said gently. "You're not responsible and neither is Rachel." Sandy just nodded and he continued, "I'd also like to see her room and have you tell me if there is anything the police found in there."

Sandy stood and gestured down the hall. Fenton spent half an hour in there with Sandy and took two other notebooks with him back to the living room. Sandy had gone to get Olivia. When the two returned, Fenton put on a smile and did his best to put the young girl at ease. "I'm trying to help your mom find Rachel. I'll do whatever I can to help."

"Even though my dad hurt your son?" Olivia's large brown eyes looked at him questioningly.

 _She looks a lot like her sister_ , Fenton thought, with Rachel having the same medium blonde hair and brown eyes.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Rachel isn't responsible for what happened to Joe." Fenton said honestly. "Your mom needed help and I agreed."

"What does Joe think?" Olivia inquired further. "Is he mad that you're helping us?"

Sandy went to interject when Fenton raised his hand. "It's okay." Looking Olivia in the eye, he said, "Joe asked me to come here. He wants me to help you."

"He's not angry?"

Fenton thought about Joe. Joe had never expressed anger in regards to George to his family. During his imprisonment, Joe had been angry at George a number of times, but in the end the man had saved his life. Whether it was deserved or not, Joe felt that he owed George something. "No, Joe's not angry." He drew a deep breath and let it out. "Did you know that Joe wrote a letter in support of your father at the sentencing?"

"Yes."

"He hasn't changed his mind about your father and he doesn't blame you, your mom, or your sister for what happened to him."

Olivia closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she opened them, he could see the fear was gone. "Tell him thank you."

Fenton was truly touched. He reached out and patted her knee. "I'll be sure to tell him."

As he left the Rand apartment a short time later, he realized that Joe had been right about helping the family. They were innocent. His eyes strayed to the briefcase he carried that had the notebooks and tablet in it. While Joe had wanted to help for all the right reasons, Fenton now had an additional reason. There was only one other female that would feel as Rachel Rand. Marilyn Laird. If somehow Marilyn had gotten in touch with Rachel… Fenton gripped his briefcase tightly. He'd be devoting a lot time to this case. He might be making a leap, but he thought it was possible that by finding Rachel he'd find Marilyn Laird. His heart chilled at the thought of an impressionable teenage girl with a predisposition to dislike Joe being with Marilyn Laird. So may bad things were possible in such a situation. All the more reason to find Rachel.

.**********.

Fenton spent the rest of that day and the next in his hotel room going over each page of the notebooks that he had gotten from Sandy. There wasn't anything more detailed about this mystery woman or girl, but Rachel's pain and anger were very prominent in her entries. With the notebooks finished, he pulled out the list of sites that Rachel frequented along with the user name and passwords that were now associated with them. There was one site in particular that he was interested it. It was a type of message board for people who played a particular online zombie hunting game. Rachel only played the game occasionally but her private messaging board brought a cold chill to Fenton's heart. The person she messaged with the most was a person who called themselves Josephine. He searched the messages and discovered that the program only kept three months worth of messages active. Fenton knew from experience that messages occurring before that would be stored on a server for months if not years. Picking up his cell phone, he scrolled through his contacts. Pressing a name he waited for an answer on the other end.

"Agent Gilroy."

"It's Fenton. I think I have a clue."

.**********.

That evening, Fenton introduced an agent from the local FBI office to Sandy and Olivia Rand. He assured them that this could only help in the search for Rachel. Because she was upset at the three strangers going through her sister's things, Olivia went to a friend's apartment who lived on the same floor. Fenton and Sandy remained in the Rand apartment. They could hear the agents moving around in Rachel's room.

"What more are they looking for?" Sandy asked apprehensively.

"The FBI is very thorough. They're just making sure that the local police and myself didn't overlook anything." Fenton kept his voice low. He knew this was upsetting for the girl's mother.

Sandy's eyes darted fearfully from the hallway to Fenton. "You really think Marilyn Laird is involved in Rachel's running away?"

Keeping his eyes on her, he replied, "Yes, I'm afraid I do. I told you about the information that I found in the messages for the zombie game. The FBI will be able to look up even older messages which may help us figure out when this relationship began and perhaps some clues as to where Rachel went."

Shaking her head, Sandy replied, "The Lairds never had any direct contact with any of us except for George. I suppose George could have said something to them about various games that Rachel played." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think that Rachel and George may have played that game together, so he might have had it up on his computer at work." Shaking her head, she said, "I don't know why she would suddenly develop an interest in Rachel."

"Don't you?" Fenton asked carefully as he glanced away from her to a picture on the counter that was of the Rand family. Rachel looked like her sister, almost as if she were an older version of Olivia. Looking back to Sandy, he found her looking intently back at him.

"Joe." At his nod of agreement, she whispered, "You think the two of them are going to go after Joe."

Fenton stared into her eyes as he answered. "I know Marilyn is. The question is, what role will Rachel play?"

Sandy broke eye contact with Fenton and dropped her head into her hands. Her voice was muffled as she responded, "Rachel's not a bad girl. I can't imagine… I can't…."

Fenton heard muffled sobs. "Sandy. Look at me." He waited for her to lift her face that was starting to blotch with tear stains. "We'll find them. We'll find them both before they can do anything to Joe." As he saw the woman in front of him relax slightly, he prayed that he was correct. He had to find them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** Sorry! It's another short one!

I have to laugh at the 'bloodthirsty' nature of some reviews. ;-) You know I'm not opposed to 'whumping' on Joe, but you'll have to wait for it. ;-D

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

Fenton was tired when he got off the plane in Bayport. As he headed to the luggage carousel, he had already spotted Frank and Joe. He had hoped that Laura would pick him up and give him just a little more time before he had to relay the news to Joe about what he had found in NC and his search for Rachel Rand. Mustering a small smile, he greeted the boys with hugs and then surveyed the unmoving carousel. "Looks like we might have to wait a few minutes."

Frank and Joe were ready to learn what news their father had but they knew this wasn't the place and so Fenton had a small reprieve. The van ride home would be a different story, but he planned to put them off until he could tell the news to the whole family.

When they got into the van, Fenton had been able to see Joe's bouncing knees from the corner of his eye. His younger son was a bundle of nervous energy and if Fenton had had good news to relay, then he would have already told them. The boys knew that and so it only added to the uneasiness as they rode home.

After an almost unendurable amount of time that was filled with meaningless small talk, they arrived home. Joe snatched Fenton's suitcase from the back of the van as he exited. Frank and Fenton watched as he moved swiftly and directly to the house. Fenton let out a deep breath and was startled when Frank spoke to him.

"How bad is it, dad?"

Turning to face Frank, he said, "Pretty bad, son." He glanced back toward the house. "I've put it off as long as I can. He'll probably need to talk to you tonight."

"Anything he needs," Frank said as he moved in front of his father to enter the house.

With one last deep breath, Fenton followed.

Twenty minutes later, the family sat in stunned silence around the kitchen table.

"So you're saying that Marilyn has recruited Rachel to help her in some unknown plot against Joe?" Laura's voice showed her level of disbelief.

"It appears that way, but we can't be sure that they are planning to do something. Right now it's just conjecture."

Joe stared resolutely at the third button on his father's shirt. "She said we'd meet again. She's coming."

Fenton could feel the certainly that Joe felt when his son's eyes suddenly snapped up to meet his. "We have some good leads from this-" Fenton began but was cut off by Joe.

"Canada. You have Montreal and Toronto as new possible places for Marilyn to be. You have video showing Rachel taking a train to New York City but no footage of her getting off or of her boarding another train. The city is only two hours away from here. She could be here now." Joe's voice was calm, but his mother's was not.

"Maybe we should start having Frank-" Laura's voice was strained as she tried to speak but once again, Joe wasn't letting his parents finish what they had to say.

Joe's voice was slightly elevated with a tinge of anger coloring it. "I'm not going to live my life in a fishbowl!"

"You said it yourself, she's coming," Frank said. "It only makes sense to take precautions now that we know that she has help."

Joe pushed his chair back roughly from the table as he stood. He had to reach back and grab the chair to keep it from falling over. "I'm going outside for a bit." He turned and grabbed a heavy jacket and went out the back door. The rush of cold air swept into the kitchen and then was cut off by the slamming door.

"That could have gone better," Fenton said.

"No, it couldn't," Frank responded as he looked through the nearby window and saw his brother heading for the tree in the backyard. "There was no way he was going to take any of that well. He thinks it's never going to end." Standing, Frank said, "Not sure when we'll be in, but it's already starting to get dark. Hopefully, we'll be ready to come in when supper is ready."

When Frank left to follow his brother and the door closed, Laura turned to her husband. "Is there anything you left out?"

Fenton shook his head no. "I'm not going to lie or hide things from Joe. I'm trying to build back his trust." He looked at his wife. "You heard Frank. He says that Joe thinks it's not going to end but he's wrong. Joe thinks it's going to end." He looked back at the door for a moment and then reached out to take his wife's hand as he looked her in the eye. "He thinks it ends with his death."

Laura put her free hand to her mouth.

Fenton's voice was steel as he said, "I'm not going to let that happen."

.**********.

Joe sat quietly in the openness of the tree fort that was now completely exposed with the leaves gone. He hadn't come out here much since November when most of the leaves fell. The news he had just heard though had sent a chill through him that had nothing to do with the weather. He listened for a moment and then he heard the sound of rustling leaves crunching under feet. Frank was coming.

"You need to work on your stealth skills, Frank. I heard you coming with no problem."

Frank's voice came from the ground below. "I wasn't trying to sneak up on you. If I were, you would have never heard me." Frank's head appeared at the top of the ladder and then the rest of his body. Sitting at the top of the ladder, Frank asked, "Do you want company or would you prefer to be alone?"

Joe thought for a moment and said, "Company." He waited for Frank to move into his usual position before he began speaking. "You're not going to like this, but I want to say it anyway. If something happens to me-"

"Stop it, Joe. You're right. I don't want to hear it because we're not going to let that happen." Frank voice was full of confidence.

Joe looked calmly at his brother and said, "Sure, Frank. You're going to keep me safe. Just remember this, I don't blame you. I don't hold any of you responsible."

Frank's complexion reddened and it had nothing to do with the cold. "Sure, Joe. I'll remember it. Now you remember this. Whatever happens, I'll be there for you. No matter what."

The two brothers' eyes met. Both full of resolution but of vastly different kinds but both knowing that the other meant what he said.

Half an hour of silence that was comfortable stretched between them. Then they heard their mother's voice calling them in to eat. Both moved to the ladder. Whatever was in store, they would face it together.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** I guess a number of these are short chapters. Hmmmm.

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

The rest of January and the month of February proved uneventful for the boys and for that, the family was glad. Fenton had made a couple of trips to New York City as well as Toronto and Montreal chasing down possible clues. The investigation was at another standstill. While it wasn't at the front of Joe's mind, the concern about Marilyn and what she would do was always on the fringe of his thoughts. As May got closer, he worried a little more, concerned that Marilyn was going to time her return to either his kidnapping or when he was turned over to the Lairds.

The first weekend in March, Frank mentioned an idea to Joe as they were on the way to eat at Prito's with their friends. "The Friday after your birthday is the 20th and it's a teacher workday. You want to go on a cold weather campout with me?"

Joe saw Frank glance over at him when he didn't respond immediately. He had wanted to ask Frank about going on a survival campout but had been a little hesitant. Now, Frank had offered it on his own.

Misinterpreting Joe's silence, Frank said, "It's okay if you don't wan-"

"No! No! I do. I just didn't expect you to offer." He looked at Frank carefully as he inquired, "Will you teach me some more survival techniques you learned?"

"Of course though I think you know most of them." Frank gave a grim smile. "I know that Marilyn is on your mind and I don't want to add to it."

"You're not," Joe said quickly. "The more that I know, the better I'll feel if… if something happens." Joe looked at his brother's profile as he drove. "You know you're the best brother I could have."

Frank flashed him a true smile as he replied, "Well, that's a good thing because I'm the only brother you've got."

Joe returned the smile and looked back in the direction they were driving. "You think mom and dad will be okay with us going out on our own for three days?"

"Already talked with them both. They think it's a great idea."

Joe groaned.

Frank turned to him with a puzzled expression. "What? Aren't you glad that they're agreeing?"

"Of course, but it just probably means they're worried about me and see this as a way to take my mind off of 'things.'" Joe did air quotes around 'things.' "And by things I mean Marilyn." He grunted. "Sometimes I think they think of her more than I do."

Frank took several glances at his brother. "Maybe they do. But they really want to find Marilyn." Focusing on the road again, Frank said, "I think mom may even be getting more involved in the investigation."

"What do you mean?"

"She's got some time marked off on her calendar for several days during the week with no notations and it's the same days each week."

Joe smiled and said, "Investigating mom are we?"

Coloring slightly, Frank replied, "Not at all. I'm just curious."

"Have you asked her about it?"

"Yeah. She says she's been taking a class that will help dad out."

Joe looked puzzled. "What does that mean?"

Frank shrugged as he pulled into Prito's parking lot. "Don't know. She needed to do something and we never got back to it."

"Well, if it's something that takes _her_ mind of Marilyn, I'm all for it. Whatever it is," Joe said with a smile.

As Frank parked he asked Joe, "Do you want to ask anyone to join us on the campout?"

"Nah. I'd like it to be just the two of us."

"Then that's what it will be," Frank responded with a smile.

.**********.

The days leading up to the 20th went by quickly and the weather evened out in their favor for the weekend. For the last couple of weeks, the boys had been talking about their trip and making plans. Their friends had teased them saying that they might enjoy the cold camping so much that they would want to begin living that way. Chet had teased that it could be a new 'life show' on a network: _The Hardy Hardys of New York_.

The only thing that was unusual occurred on Joe's birthday, March 16th. That morning as Joe was getting out of the shower, his phone signaled an incoming text message. Wrapping his towel around his waist, he went to retrieve his phone from his desk certain it was an incoming birthday message. He could hear Frank entering the joint bathroom to brush his teeth as he picked up the phone.

"See you should have gotten out of bed when I told you too. You've probably already missed some birthday phone calls," Frank said from the bathroom.

"Yeah, yeah," Joe said as he held the phone with one hand and the towel that wanted to slip from his waist with the other. He looked at the screen and didn't recognize the number. Running his thumb across the screen to access the message, his face went from a smile to a frown as he read.

 _Happy 17_ _th_ _birthday Joseph. That's how old Morgan was when he died, isn't it? Hope you are well as summer is right around the corner._

He shivered and moved toward the bathroom. His eyes left the message to find Frank looking at him quizzically. Joe held out the phone. Frank moved to take it, toothbrush still sticking out of his mouth.

Frank spit out the toothpaste and laid the toothbrush on the counter. "I'll take this to dad while you get some clothes on."

Joe nodded and then began to locate his clothes for the day in a numb fashion. _How did she get my phone number? Is she here? What does she plan to do this summer?_ Finally dressed, Joe went to his father's study.

"Dad?"

Fenton looked over to his son and held up a finger. "Yes, Chris. I'll be waiting for your callback." Fenton was on a first name basis with FBI agent Chris Gilroy. Putting down his phone he looked at Frank and Joe. "Agent Gilroy is going to pull up Joe's phone messages and do a trace on the message. Hopefully, it'll help us pinpoint where to look next."

"What do you think she's planning?" Joe asked.

Looking his son in the eyes, Fenton said, "I don't know, Joe. But I'm going to do my best to find out." Then realizing it was indeed his son's birthday, he stepped forward to pull him into a hug. "I'm sorry this had to happen on your birthday. She really does like to push our buttons."

Joe's arms went around his father and returned the hug. He was getting close to his dad's height as well as his brother's and that thought made him smile for a moment. "I know." He pulled back and said, "But if this helps us to locate her, then it will be the best birthday present I could get."

The day passed in a bit of a haze for Joe as he kept wondering about Marilyn's message and what the FBI would be able to find out. When Frank and Joe arrived at home after school, their mother told them that Fenton was out working on some of his current cases and bringing Sam up to speed on all of them. He wanted to be ready to leave whenever the FBI called.

That night, Joe's birthday celebration was a little more subdued than Frank's had been three months earlier. Each making a wish that Marilyn Laird would be found soon and brought to justice.

.**********.

Two days later on Wednesday, when Joe and Frank got home, Sam and their mother were there to tell them that Fenton had left after lunch on a flight to Quebec City.

"Quebec? But I thought that the last known location was Montreal?" Frank asked.

"It was," Sam responded. "But the trace on the phone showed a tower near Quebec City near the area where she was at before and they had someone I.D. Marilyn at a local market."

"So she went back to her original hideout?" Joe questioned.

"We're not sure, but that's why your dad went there. He said he'd call tonight when he got to his hotel."

.**********.

That night when Fenton called, he told his family that he'd be going out to some of the places that Marilyn had frequented before as well as some new spots to see if they could get some more I.D.'s. He and the FBI would be working with local police to see if anyone else had seen Marilyn. They had picture of her with various hair colors and styles and they hoped to pin down a location for her if possible. They had also brought pictures of Rachel Rand. Maybe they could locate one of them and if so, they hoped to find the other.

As the boys went upstairs for the night, Laura watched Joe's slow steps. She was glad that he and Frank would be going camping over the weekend. Joe needed something to take his mind off things now more than ever.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** I knew there were some longer chapters in here somewhere! I will be traveling tomorrow night so I decided that I should go ahead and upload Chapter 7 tonight. Maybe I'll upload another chapter on Sat. evening. Not sure. ;-)

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

Friday morning hadn't even dawned when Frank and Joe kissed their mother and climbed into the van. She had gotten up at 5:30 to make them a hot breakfast because she told them she'd feel better about sending them off with a stomach full of warm food. The van had been packed the night before with their camping gear and they wanted to be on their way before the sun rose. Since sunrise wasn't until almost 7:15, it wasn't too hard, even for Joe. Seeing their mom on the front porch with her robe clutched tightly, they both gave a wave through the windshield as Frank carefully backed out of the driveway.

Joe leaned back against the seat. "I'm glad we're going away." At Frank's chuckle, Joe hurriedly said, "It's not because of mom, it's just-"

"You need to be busy and keep your mind off of what dad is doing," Frank interrupted him.

"Yeah." Joe paused. "Thanks for coming with me."

Chuckling again, Frank said, "Well, it would be hard to teach you the few winter survival skills I have if I didn't come with you."

Joe laughed along with his brother as the houses flashed past in the ever increasing light of dawn. "You know what I mean."

"It's the least I could do."

Joe just smiled as he looked out the window. Hopefully when they returned home Sunday, their dad would be home with good news.

.**********.

In just a little over two hours, the Hardy brothers arrived at Whitaker's State Park in Pennsylvania. Located near Wilkes-Barre, the park was large with primitive camp sites, streams, waterfalls, and mountains. It was perfect for what Joe wanted to do that weekend. The boys checked in with the ranger at the park entrance. They had reserved their out of the way campsite earlier in the month and had enjoyed telling their friends about the seclusion of the area. Chet had joked just the other night at Prito's that he'd be happy to go camping with them next time provided it was in a park with bathhouse. But this was what Frank and Joe were looking for.

Leaving the van at their designated parking area, the boys loaded their gear on their backs and prepared to head into the woods. As Joe shifted the pack on his back, Frank smiled at him and asked, "You're sure you're up for this little brother?"

Joe laughed as the pack settled into a comfortable position on his back and shoulders. "It's not the first time I've gone primitive camping with you."

"You're right. It's not. However, it is a bit cooler than our norm, though it's not truly winter anymore, and it's the first time we didn't pack a cooler of food." Frank responded as he moved to take the lead as they moved into the forest. "And you seriously want me to throw real life scenarios at you?"

"Heck yeah. No need in being here if you're not going to make at least part of the trip real survival." Joe looked around. When he had been on the hunts, it had been summer. The roots he had made meals off of and many of the grubs were not to be found at this time of year. Hiding from game would be harder also without the plentiful foliage provided by summer. Not that they'd be hunting game in the park. At least they could have fish. Realizing he had been quiet for several minutes, he glanced at his brother and gave his best smile. "I'm sure we'll make it with no problem." Even with his smile, Joe could tell that Frank was concerned. Deciding he would go ahead and broach the subject that he knew was on his brother's mind, Joe said with a calm resignation, "I'm okay, Frank." Keeping his gaze ahead he continued. "These kinds of situations are always going to make me think of what happened with Laird." He paused a moment as he stepped over a fallen log. "It's part of who I am now. I can't ignore it. But it doesn't mean I'm in a depressive funk just because I get quiet."

Frank stopped walking so that Joe came up beside him. Looking his brother in the eye, he copied part of his brother's comments as he said, "I just worry about you. It's part of who I am and I can't ignore it."

Unable to keep a smile off his face, Joe responded, "So. I'm to expect worried glances when I'm quiet."

"Yes," Frank said as he began walking again.

"And when I look off thoughtfully into the trees," Joe said as he followed.

"Yes."

"And when I rub sweaty palms on my pants when I hear a dog bark."

"Ye- Wait. You get sweaty palms when dogs bark?" Frank asked as he stopped.

Joe never stopped walking and passed his brother. Throwing a smile back to Frank, he teased, "Nah. Just thought I'd throw that in."

Falling into step behind Joe, Frank muttered loud enough for Joe to hear, "Ungrateful little brother."

Joe laughed as he retorted, "Overprotective big brother."

.**********.

About two hours later, they were at their destination and had their campsite set up. It was getting close to noon when Frank said, "First survival task: go scout out the stream we saw on the map. Go fifty yards in each direction and report back to me with options for fishing and for crossing."

Giving Frank a mock salute, Joe said, "I'm on it."

About forty minutes later, Joe returned and practically bounded into the campsite. "You'll never guess what I found!"

Giving his brother a warm smile as he tossed another small log on the fire, he said, "Probably not, but thank goodness you're willing to tell me."

Returning the smile, Joe asked, "Did you happen to bring any of your knives you like to throw?"

Frank straightened up and looked curiously at his brother. "Yeah, I did. But you didn't bring any of your hatchets did you?"

"No. But I found a beauty by the stream-"

"You didn't take it did you?" Frank broke in.

Glaring at Frank, Joe replied, "Of course I didn't. But if you were to take your knife in that direction, then I don't see any reason when I can't use it just to do a little target practicing."

"I guess not. But let's save that for tomorrow. I want to go over shelter building and insulation with you."

Joe smiled like it was the best thing ever.

Seeing his brother's happy look, Frank felt the need to clarify. "You know I told you that you already knew most everything I did and what you- what you did last summer was more than enough to prove you're a survival expert."

Joe's smile only faltered a little as he shrugged. "Warm weather and cold weather are different. I just want to know everything I can. Just in case." Joe could see his brother's anxiety start to blossom. "Do I need to stare off thoughtfully into the trees and become quiet?" Joe's smile was sincere and his brother responded in kind.

"No. I think that would be overkill." Frank paused and his eyes widened at his poor choice of words. "I didn't mean-"

Joe burst into laughter. "This is going to be a true survival weekend. I don't know how we're going to survive having conversation."

Frank shook his head. "Tell me about the stream."

"It's about fifteen yards at its widest in this area and as you would expect it's rather rocky with various boulders."

Nodding, Frank asked, "How about depth?"

"There's a spot where you can go across a number of boulders near a bend of the stream. I think it's got to be about fifteen feet deep there."

"Great," Frank responded. "We'll go check the depth."

Joe watched as Frank selected a roll of twine from his bag and put it in his pocket. As Frank walked away toward the stream, Joe looked again at Frank's bag. It seemed a little too full to have been completely unloaded _. What did Frank pack in that bag anyway?_ Glancing over his shoulder at Frank's retreating form, Joe turned and ran after him. "Why is the depth important? Does it have to do with fish?"

"Not really."

Joe thought hard about it. He couldn't think of anything that would be important with water depth. "Does it have anything to do with building a raft?" Joe quizzed.

"Not really." Before Joe could ask another question, Frank asked one of his own. "Which way is the deep pool?"

Joe pointed off to the left. "That way. The stream is traveling in that direction."

"Any sign of waterfalls or high water marks of flooding?"

Distracted now by Frank's questions, Joe replied, "No waterfalls in the section of stream that I explored. High water marks are contained in what is now dry creek bed that extends about ten to fifteen feet on either side."

"Does it look like there has been recent flooding?" Frank asked as they were now in visual range of the stream.

"Yes. I think that the rain we had last week caused some minor flooding."

"Always check to make sure that you aren't in a flood plain or area prone to flooding when you set up your camp. It could wash away your supplies and possibly kill you."

Joe nodded and moved out onto a boulder. "This way," he said without turning around.

Frank followed until they were on a large flat boulder that sat about five feet above the water line. With one hand he reached into a pocket and drew out the ball of twine. With the other hand, he removed a rock he had picked up along the way. The rock was large enough in size to sink easily to the bottom of the stream and also large enough that he could wind the twine around.

Joe watched him for a moment, understanding what he was about to do. He crouched down near the water's edge and stared into its crystal depths. "Looks like it goes straight down here." From the corner of his eye, he saw Frank's boots come into view and he stood up beside his brother.

Frank tossed the rock tied with string about a foot out into the water. Frank estimated that the water was about twelve feet deep in this section based on the amount of twine that disappeared into the water. It was plenty deep. He glanced over at his brother. "Stick your fingers in the water and let me know what you think the temperature is while I get out a thermometer."

Joe squatted and obediently leaned over to trail his fingers in the water. "I really didn't expect you to bring a therm-! Whaa!" Joe toppled into the stream and thrashed around for a moment in the water. His breath came in sharp gasps after his head broke the surface. "What the heck?!" Joe shouted as he treaded water in the icy stream.

"You wanted realism. Realism is falling into a cold stream in the winter." Frank shrugged as he squatted down on the rock and began to pull his twine out of the stream. "I didn't think you'd go in by yourself, so I just helped a little."

Joe responded with an angry glare as he moved to the rock and hauled himself out. Standing on the rock, he wrapped his arms around himself. "Giving me pneumonia isn't my idea of realism."

Stepping back from the edge of the stream, Frank wound the twine back up. "You aren't going to catch pneumonia."

"Yeah?" Joe asked with a touch of belligerence. "We'll see what mom has to say when we get back."

Frank burst out in a belly laugh. "Really, Joe? You're threatening me with mom?"

Joe glared for a moment and then smiled. "She'd tell me I asked for it."

"Exactly," Frank responded with a nod. Motioning Joe to go in front of him, Frank said, "I brought an extra pair of boots just in case. Since you have a spare set of clothes, you'll be fine." As the pair moved back toward camp, Frank began the teaching point of this exercise. "So you've fallen in a cold stream. Let's say you don't have any dry clothes. What do you do?"

"If I have a fire, I dry my clothes by taking them off and putting them in places where they can dry." Joe shook some water droplets from his hair as he narrowed his eyes and carefully asked, "I do have a fire, don't I?"

Laughing, Frank nodded. "Yes and you're correct. Now. What do you do while they're drying?"

Joe looked slightly aghast at his brother. "You're not going to make me sit naked around the fire are you?"

Frank laughed again and thought that this was more entertaining than he had imagined. "No. But we will hang your clothes around to dry to see how long it takes. It's a sunny and warm day and you have a fire. This will be about the best drying time you'll be able to get. It'll be good to see how long it takes to get the clothes somewhat dry."

The two brothers then went into a discussion of what to do if you're wet and you don't have a fire and other scenarios as they walked back into their camp. Immediately upon arrival, Joe stripped out of most of his wet clothing while Frank pulled dry clothes out of Joe's backpack and got the extra boots from his own. Joe grabbed the dry clothing from his brother and immediately shed his wet underwear. Sighing in gratification, Joe pulled the dry, and therefore warmer, clothing on quickly while Frank chuckled.

"So did they do that to you at your survival camp?" Joe asked in a still peeved tone.

"No, but they it was something that they told us they wanted to do."

Curious now, Joe asked, "Well why didn't they?"

Frank smirked at his younger brother. "They didn't want anyone to get sick."

Joe looked at his brother with a straight face and then burst out laughing.

.**********.

The rest of Friday went great for the boys. At the end of the day before they were going to cook up their fish, they hiked back to the van and drove to the payphone at the ranger station. Both boys were upbeat and full of energy when they talked to their mom. On the way back to camp, the boys thought about the day. Frank had provided Joe with further tips on outdoor survival while Joe demonstrated for him some of the techniques he had used during his captivity.

That night around the campfire the brothers had a meal of cooked fish that they had caught from the stream using a spear they made. Joe noticed that Frank was staring at him across the fire pit. "What?"

"You never fail to surprise me."

Frank's tone had been serious and Joe knew he meant what he said. However, he didn't know how to answer him so he remained quiet.

"What you were able to do…" Frank's voice trailed off as he shook his head. "I just don't know if I could have done it as well as you did it."

Joe looked at his brother's bent head. "I couldn't have done it if you hadn't shared what you knew with me. If you hadn't told me all those things… things would have been a lot different." Joe watched his brother's head raise until their eyes met across the flames. "Thanks."

And in a phrase that had become commonplace between the two, Frank responded with, "Anytime."

When the boys crawled into their one-person tents a short while later, they were feeling rather content and peaceful.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** So glad you all liked the last chapter. It is one of my favorites and while I do love some angst, okay a lot of angst, I also enjoy Frank and Joe just being brothers. That being said, the drama ramps up from here to the end. ;-)

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

The sun had barely cracked the horizon when Joe heard the sounds of his brother moving around the camp. He muttered slightly and sunk a little lower in his sleeping bag. The overnight temperature had been just above freezing and it was cold out. His bag was rated for below-freezing but he knew that didn't mean it kept you roasting hot, that it meant it would keep you from freezing. Thankfully, it had kept him toasty warm and he had dressed in his clothes for today before crawling into the bag the previous night. So he would be dressed and warm when he did exit his tent. _I just want a few more minutes_ , he thought. But then, he shifted and his thoughts went elsewhere. "Shouldn't have drank all that water after supper," he muttered as he straighten out his long frame a little more to relive the pressure on his bladder.

"I can hear you in there," Frank called out. "I know you're awake."

Joe groaned and began to extricate himself from his bag and his tent. Once out of his tent, he was glad to see that Frank had a nice fire going. After stretching for a moment, Joe pulled on his boots and quickly laced them. Heading out from camp, Joe called over his shoulder, "I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"No problem," Frank called back. He went about putting his water on the fire to boil. They had brought some freeze-dried food that just needed water. It wasn't survival fare, but they also couldn't kill game in the park and fish for breakfast made his nose wrinkle up in disgust. Frank paused momentarily as he poked a log in the fire pit. There had been a noise behind him and to his left. Joe had gone off in front of him. Whatever or whoever made that noise wasn't Joe. Frank casually placed the stick he was using on the ground and moved his hand to the side toward the knife he had laying there.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a female voice said in a conversational tone.

Frank's hand hovered above the knife. He knew who it had to be and that meant she was most likely armed and according to her husband… an excellent shot. Frank brought his hand back in front of him as he pivoted in his crouched stance toward the voice and then stood to his full height. The honey blonde woman in front of him held a pistol in one hand pointed directly at him. "Shoot me and you'll never get Joe."

Marilyn Laird tilted her head slightly to the side as she sized up the teenager in front of her. "If I fire a shot of any kind, Joe will come running. Either way, you'll probably end up dead and I can live with that as long as one of you dies." She paused for a moment as if listening for something and then Frank heard it too. "Besides. I have help. Come on out, Rachel."

The teenage girl that Frank had seen in pictures in his father's study now stood before him. It seemed that Marilyn had played the authorities in both Canada and the US. She wasn't in Quebec City. He took a moment to look over Rachel Rand. She looked in good health. Her hair had been dyed a medium shade of brown, one that wouldn't draw attention. "Your mom is worried about you."

"Yeah, I know." Rachel's tone was flat and her gaze didn't falter.

"You won't sway her, Frank Hardy." Marilyn's voice drew Frank's attention back to her. "She has a score to settle with your brother too. In fact, I'd call it retribution."

Frank bristled and his voice held tension. " _Retribution_? Neither of you has any right-"

"We can debate this later," Marilyn broke in. "Right now you need to move over to that tree," she gestured to a small tree about eight inches in diameter, "and sit down with your back to it. Put your hands behind your back and Rachel will cuff you."

"And if I don't?" Frank asked with a belligerent tone.

Marilyn's voice was cold as she raised her gun a fraction higher. "Then I'll shoot you where you stand and wait for your brother to show up and maybe I'll take my time killing him then since you ruined my planned fun."

Frank's eyes narrowed. He didn't know what 'fun' Marilyn had planned, but it would be anything but fun for Joe and himself. Without speaking, he moved over to the tree Marilyn had indicated and sat with his back against it and placed his arms behind him. It took only a few moments and the cuffs were around his wrists. Inside he was fuming. _How did this happen? How did she sneak up on us like that?_ But he knew the answer. No one expected her to be here.

The Glock 19 handgun went into a side holster and Marilyn shifted the rifle that was across her back. Her eyes turned to the woods across from them. "I know you're there Joseph. Come out now or I'll let Rachel turn your brother into a pincushion."

From a small section of evergreens, Joe stepped out no longer trying to disguise his presence and put himself directly in Marilyn's field of vision.

.**********.

Joe had heard voices as he had returned to camp and knew something was wrong. He wasn't sure as he crouched in the evergreen cover whether Marilyn had actually heard something or whether she was taking a shot in the dark when she called out for him. But it didn't really matter; he had seen the knife in Rachel's hand. Had Marilyn managed to turn a fifteen year old girl into a killer? Was Rachel angry enough at him to commit murder against an innocent person? Once again, it didn't really matter. He couldn't take that chance with Frank's life.

When he stepped out and into Marilyn's view, he saw her predatory smile. Her eyes swept over him. Her voice was calm and confident. "From what I could tell yesterday, you seem to be recovered from all your injuries, Joseph."

Joe gave a quick glance to his brother who sat quietly against a tree. Rachel was poised to his side with a menacing, long, thin knife in her hand. His eyes caught hers and he read the cold anger in them. Looking back to Marilyn, he replied, "I am, but I don't think you're here to discuss my health."

Marilyn laughed a little, "Oh, but in a way, I am here to discuss your health." She walked closer to him but was still a healthy distance away. "But before we discuss that, let me explain something to you and your brother. Rachel and I bear no affection to one another. We have an agreement and we work together to achieve our goal."

Joe and Frank remained silent.

Tsking at them, Marilyn said, "I see you don't want to play the game. That's all right for now. Well, since you won't ask, I'll tell you. Let's say that Joseph manages to disarm me and tries to get Rachel to let Frank go so I won't be hurt. It won't work. Rachel will do her best to kill Frank. If Frank gets Rachel and tries to leverage her, I'll kill Joe." She looked from one brother to the other. "Let's be clear, only the two of you are interested in the saving the other. Rachel and I are only interested in making sure one of you dies."

Joe's gaze left Marilyn and went to his brother; his breathing was quickening. For a moment he pictured Frank being shot in the yard of the North Carolina compound instead of Morgan. His attention was drawn back by Marilyn's voice that was now closer. Somehow he had zoned out to the point that she was just ten feet away.

"Do you hear me, Joseph?"

"What?" he asked her. A small smile was on her face and he knew that she realized he had gone to a dark place as a result of her comments. He titled his head up; he couldn't give her an advantage.

Another small laugh came from Marilyn as she responded. "Rachel will be taking Frank to a predetermined spot. I will give you a map once they are in position. Then I will follow you." Her hand moved to gun in her holster. "If you get to Frank before official sundown, then he lives and you and I finish what my husband began with you on the shore of Lake Superior."

"Will there be real bullets this time?" Joe asked with derision as his temper flared somewhat from his memories of that day.

"Yes." Marilyn's gaze bored into him. "You'll have a map to go by and you will need to retrieve your gun before we begin our hunt."

Joe couldn't help but reflexively flinch at the word 'hunt.'

"Joe-" Frank began but stopped as Rachel put the knife to his throat.

Marilyn didn't look back but stared at Joe. "Oh, Frank, I know enough about your brother to know that he won't go for help. He'll follow the rules of the hunt because he won't risk your life. He knows that I have no qualms about killing you." She paused a moment and then continued. "However, that's what will happen if your brother doesn't make it to your location by official sundown. Someone will die today; we just don't know who it will be yet."

"You're crazy!" Frank said as he edged away from Rachel's blade.

"I never claimed to be sane," Marilyn responded. "Do we understand each other?"

"Perfectly," Joe said as he nodded. There wouldn't be an option, if he wanted himself and Frank to live, he'd have to kill her. He was only slightly disturbed by that fact. For too long, he had lived not knowing when she'd show up and now he had a chance to make sure she would never harm him or his family again. He vaguely heard Frank mutter something but he didn't know what as Marilyn closed the distance between them to five feet. Frank was about twenty feet behind her.

"I never got to see your scar, Joseph. I think I'd like to see it now if you don't mind." An evil smile of satisfaction was on her face as Frank's muttering turned into loudly voiced comments to Marilyn. "Take off your shirt, Joseph," she clarified, her breath fogging in the cold morning air.

Joe could see what she was doing. Her smile grew with each loud comment that Frank made and she made no attempt to have Rachel shut him up which meant she was enjoying this. But there wasn't much he could do. Reaching down, he crossed his arms as he grabbed the hems of his sweatshirt and tee shirt. A glare was on his face as he pulled the garments over his head. He held his shirts in his right hand and felt the cold air rush over his skin bringing goose bumps up all over his torso.

Marilyn had watched him remove his clothing with a smile and then she walked to a nearby tree and carefully removed the rifle from her back and the pistol from its holster. With a glance at Frank, she walked over to Joe and stood only a foot or so away. Her eyes were on his as her fingers traced over the scar that her husband had given him months before. Frank's loud calls for her to 'take her filthy hands' off Joe only served to broaden her smile. As Frank continued to mutter behind her, she spoke so that only Joe could hear. "I'm really not a cougar. Perhaps if I were Rachel's age I'd be interested. But I'm not." Her eyes hardened. "I much prefer my husband. But then he's not here is he? And I have you to thank for that." Then her countenance returned to calm once again hiding the anger that had been present a second before. "However, I _do_ like to manipulate. And right now, I'm pressing your brother's buttons pretty hard."

Looking into her eyes as her fingers stayed on his skin, Joe said, "Do you know how much I hate you right now?"

Marilyn titled her head back and gave a throaty laugh. When her eyes returned to Joe's face she said, "Well, it's nothing to how much you're going to hate me in just a moment."

Joe just stared at her.

Her gaze was intense as she returned his stare. "Remember that Rachel will stick him like a pig if you try anything."

"I know," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then you'd better behave yourself." At his blank look she moved her hand from his side and up across his chest. When he pulled back slightly, she hissed at him and said, "I'm going to kiss you and you're going to let me."

Joe's eyes flared with anger as he looked over to his brother quickly. Marilyn was right. She was pushing Frank's buttons. Thankfully, Rachel didn't have the knife at Frank's throat or Frank would have done serious damage to himself. He looked back to Marilyn as he felt her fingers thread through his hair on the back of his head. She moved her other hand to his chest as she pulled his head down towards hers. She paused for a moment before bringing her lips into contact with his. In that brief moment he said, "You're right, I hate you more." A small laugh escaped her lips before they touched his.

.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Don't let the end of the chapter freak you out. There's NOT going to be any sex. ;-)


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** Whew! *wipes sweat from brow* Glad no one got too concerned about that kiss! Your reward: a chapter that is almost 4,000 words!

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

Joe stood as still as the proverbial statue as Marilyn's lips slanted over his. His arms were rigid at his sides and he gripped his shirts so tightly his knuckles were white. He was all too aware of Frank's reaction. Neither boy was one for swearing, but Frank said several before Marilyn broke the kiss. Marilyn merely smiled at Frank after she turned away from Joe to retrieve her rifle.

"Drop your shirts on the ground, Joseph. You can't put them on yet."

"It's barely 40 degrees out here!" Frank protested loudly.

"He'll survive," Marilyn said as she slung the rifle across her back once more. "He has a knack for it." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of cuffs. Motioning toward a nearby tree, she said, "Sit against that tree, Joseph. It's your turn to sit and wait.

Joe looked at Frank and then moved to sit as Marilyn instructed.

Moving behind Joe, Marilyn squatted to attach the cuffs. As she stood, Marilyn said, "Now here's what's going to happen. Frank will be released from the tree, but recuffed once he stands. He will go nicely with Rachel to our waiting vehicle. Rachel and I have predetermined checks and if one of us doesn't respond, the other will kill the brother with her.

Joe's gaze locked with his brother's. He knew Frank wouldn't try anything and he, himself, would do whatever Marilyn required to keep Frank safe.

Frank looked over to Marilyn. "You wouldn't kill him. You're looking forward to the hunt."

Marilyn watched Frank closely before speaking. "You know, Rachel has been hanging around Bayport for a month. She's asked other kids about you and has seen you for herself at Prito's and other places." Marilyn smiled as she saw a frown form on Frank's face. "Oh, don't berate yourself. She did more than just change her hair color. I doubt even her own mother would have recognized her." Marilyn waved a hand in the air dismissively. "But that's beside the point. The point is, I know that the two of you are devoted to each other. There's no way you'd chance it." Turning her attention to Joe, she added, "Plus, I could live with killing Joe now," she looked back to Frank, "knowing that you'd blame yourself for the rest of your life."

Joe pulled hopelessly at the cuffs behind his back. She was right and he hated it.

"Now, back to the plan. Rachel will take Frank to a predetermined location. Joseph will try to get to Frank before sundown and I… I will try to track and kill Joseph before he gets there. As I said before, if he makes it, Frank goes free and Joseph and I will settle this. If not, Frank dies and Rachel and I just disappear."

"Or I kill you and then Frank and I both live," Joe's voice drew a surprised look from Marilyn.

"That would be the most unlikely outcome," Marilyn said with a smile. Then turning her attention back to Frank, she instructed Rachel to free him and then cuff him back. She moved behind Joe and placed a knife blade to his throat.

All Frank could do was glare at Marilyn and Rachel. For now, there was nothing he could do. But soon, it would just be him and Rachel and he would do his best to convince her that this was a terrible idea. "Don't do anything stupid, little brother," Frank said as Rachel prodded him with a knife.

Joe managed a grim smile as he responded, "I told you I couldn't promise that."

Frank nodded and then turned to Marilyn. "I know that this will sound empty right now, but I promise you it's not. You hurt Joe and the consequences for you will be fatal."

Marilyn slid the hand that wasn't holding the knife down Joe's bare chest as she said, "I won't hurt him yet. I'm sure that I can find much more pleasant things to occupy our time until you reach your destination."

"Why-" Frank said as he moved in their direction.

Marilyn's knife pressed against Joe's throat and he leaned as far back as he could against the tree. "It's okay, Frank!" Joe yelled. A small red line appeared on Joe's throat as a result of his speaking and the pressure of the knife.

Frank stopped immediately and stepped back. With a final look at Marilyn, he moved in the direction that Rachel indicated.

When the pair was out of sight, Marilyn moved to the log that Frank had been sitting on just a little while earlier as he worked the fire.

Joe's eyes followed her as she moved. "So, do I get my shirt back?"

Without looking up from the fire, she responded, "The tee shirt. You should stay pretty warm as you try to get to your brother in time. The high today is supposed to be mid-50s so you shouldn't have a problem." When the fire was satisfactory and she had removed the pot that had been boiling water from it, she turned her attention to Joe. "It'll take them about two hours walking and driving to get to the destination. Can't draw any attention you know." At Joe's nod, she added, "I'll let you have your shirt in an hour."

With that, Joe leaned his head back and began making a plan. No matter which direction he was supposed to go, he'd be making a detour to get that hatchet he saw yesterday. It'd be handy in more ways than one, but he hoped he didn't need to use it on Marilyn. That was a slightly gruesome thought. He turned his thoughts from that to the possible places in the area where Rachel might take Frank. It probably wouldn't help but it gave him something to do as he sat in the cold.

.**********.

Frank trudged through the leaf litter along the same route that he had Joe had come just yesterday. His mind was whirling with questions. The most pressing and the one he could do the least about was what Marilyn was doing to Joe right now. In his mind he prayed that it was only a ploy on her part to push his buttons. Joe had already made it clear that Marilyn liked to be in control and manipulate situations so maybe she _was_ trying to push his buttons. However, he just couldn't get the images of Marilyn kissing his brother out of his mind. It made his stomach knot with disgust. He needed to get his mind off of that as there was nothing he could do about it. His chance lay with the teenage girl behind him. He'd have to be careful. She was already predisposed to dislike him and Joe and Marilyn had done nothing to dissuade that train of thought.

"How far are we going?" Frank asked. It was an innocent question. One that wouldn't send up flags.

Her steps never faltered behind him. "We're almost to the parking lot and then it will take us about an hour to get there and then there is some more walking to do."

Frank hesitated before asking his next question. She might not answer, but he wouldn't know unless he asked. "Is it doable? Does he have a chance?" He didn't try to hide the fear in his voice.

This time her steps stopped behind him and he stopped as well but didn't turn around. He almost held his breath as he waited for a response.

"Yes. Based on the distance and terrain and what I know of your brother, he can make it." Her steps started up again. "However, Marilyn already knows the path and the fastest routes."

Frank had started walking again when she had. The running conversation was more than he had hoped for and he wanted to keep it up. "But my brother is taller and stronger. He should be able to keep ahead of her."

"He would if we hadn't driven an ATV to a spot yesterday. She'll be able to keep up with him."

An ATV! Frank's heart sank. Marilyn was stacking the deck in her favor. He was brought back to the present by Rachel's voice.

"Here we are." She pressed a remote and the lights of an extended cab SUV lit up signaling the alarm was disengaged. All of the back windows were tinted. She walked up to the rear passenger door and opened it. "All of the back seats have been removed. You're going to climb in here and lay face down."

Frank took one last look around. There was no help to be seen. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he sat in the doorway and leaned back pulling in his legs. He turned and rolled so he was facedown with his head near the console between the driver and passenger. The door closed as he situated himself. He had to be able to talk to her and this would be the best he could do. Moments later she was in the driver's seat. Turning his head so he was looking up in her direction, he saw that she had some type of satellite phone.

"We're in the vehicle and will be pulling out in a few minutes. See you at the rendezvous."

"See you there," came Marilyn's voice over the phone.

With a quick glance down at Frank, Rachel put the phone in the passenger seat and started the vehicle.

"Your mom is worried about you, Rachel," Frank tried once they were moving.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Marilyn said you'd try to talk to me. She suggested I gag you if you talk too much."

"She knows that what you're doing is wrong."

"Yeah. We both know it," Rachel replied. The vehicle never slowed.

"But I was serious about your mom. My dad has been searching for you-"

Rachel snorted, "Sure. _Your_ dad. Helping _my_ mom."

Sensing a possible avenue to get Rachel thinking, Frank said, "It's true. He's also helped your mom locate some financial help for your sister's medical care." He heard a sharp intake of breath. "She's okay. All the new tests have come back normal."

"You'd say anything possible to sway me," Rachel said, but there was a touch of hope in her voice.

"Your sister likes to call you Chellie and you hate it so you call her Vivie back. The problem is she likes it."

"I think you should shut up now, Frank, or I _will_ gag you."

Rachel's voice sounded angry and Frank knew he had to stop for now. If she gagged him, there would be no hope.

Thirty minutes later, Rachel pulled off and was completing another scheduled check-in with Marilyn. Frank was beginning to think that it wasn't so much scheduled times for the calls as it was scheduled locations and Marilyn would know about how long it would take to get from point to point. As Rachel went to end the call, Marilyn said, "Let Frank know that I'm letting Joe put his clothes back on now. I'll talk to you later as scheduled." The call ended.

Frank moved his head so he could look up at Rachel. He found that she was looking at him with what appeared to be pity.

"You know she's saying that to rile you up."

Frank closed his eyes. "You don't know that. She's done things in the past that have made us wonder if she wanted more than just a hunt from Joe." His fears for his brother washed back over him as the images of Marilyn kissing him once again flashed before his eyes.

"You shouldn't take it seriously," Rachel said once again.

This time, Frank was angry as he responded. "Why shouldn't I? You saw her _kiss_ him. You saw her _touch_ him. How would you feel if it were Dominic Laird touching your sister like that?" His angry eyes lingered on her.

"I'd want to kill him with my bare hands," Rachel responded evenly. "But the reason I said you shouldn't take it seriously is that Marilyn told me she was going to do stuff like that just to manipulate you and tick Joe off." Her head tilted to the side as she looked at him. "Looks like it worked pretty good."

"Why are you telling me this? I'm sure Marilyn wouldn't approve. You're messing up her manipulation."

Rachel turned back toward the steering wheel and put the vehicle in drive. As she pulled onto what seemed to be a wooded dirt road, she said, "I'm a big sister. You're a big brother. I know how I'd feel and I don't think it's right."

Frank let that hang in the silence for several minutes as the vehicle jostled him over a number of ruts and bumps. "Then you know how I feel about my little brother." He couldn't see her hands but he was sure they were clenching the wheel.

"Your little brother is the reason that I don't have a father anymore." She laughed. "Ironically, my father is the reason you still have a little brother."

"The choices your father made are the reason he's in jail. My brother isn't the cause." There was no response. "You've been watching us for weeks. You've seen how Joe is. Do you honestly think he wanted to be hunted by Laird? Should he have just let himself be killed so your dad could go on playing jailer to other teenagers?"

"He was doing it for Olivia."

"You didn't answer me. Should Joe have died?" Frank tried to read Rachel but he could only see part of her profile and she wasn't giving much away.

"You're awfully close to getting that gag, Frank."

It was time for another break.

Twenty minutes later Rachel made another check-in call and then exited the vehicle. The passenger door opened. "Time to get out now, Frank. We've got about a fifteen minute hike and then our job will be to wait it out; sunset is 7:15."

Frank moved around and slid himself around so he could get out of the vehicle. Rachel had parked the SUV off of whatever road they had come in on. This parking area looked like it didn't get a lot of use. It had a lot of old leaf cover but it was obvious that it had been used recently. "You and Marilyn have already been here haven't you?"

"It's what we spend yesterday doing: setting up the checkpoints, putting things for Marilyn along the route, and fixing a small camp. That's where we're headed now. So, if you don't mind?" Rachel pointed the knife that she had in the direction of a trail that was nearby.

Frank only called it a trail because someone had obviously walked it several times recently as there were broken branches and stirred up leaf litter. There had been two other 'trails' that led from the parking area. Obviously, the two women had done some exploring. He should have expected that from an experienced hunter. Taking the lead he found the trail led up an incline that luckily wasn't too steep as he didn't have his hands free. As he kept an eye on where he was going, he asked, "Are we at the escarpment?" If so, Joe would really have to push himself to get here. The escarpment was a long cliff ranging in height from forty to sixty feet just outside the park in the public game lands. It was several miles long and separated the valley from a higher plateau area that steadily climbed to a peak.

"Yes." As if sensing his thoughts, she said, "Marilyn showed me the route that Joe would probably take and it's doable if he doesn't linger anywhere although climbing that cliff will be a challenge."

"It will be if he isn't shot," Frank said angrily. Marilyn had figured out the best route. Frank knew that Joe would realize that and would probably alter his route, but he wouldn't be able to alter it too much or he'd miss the sunset deadline. Rachel hadn't said anything. "It's not exactly an even field if Marilyn makes it so she knows his route and gives herself advantages like ATVs." He couldn't take it. He stopped and turned. Rachel held up the knife in front of her as she stood about fifteen feet behind him. "You really think what you're doing is justice?" Frank's voice rose a little as anger and fear for his brother colored his words. "You really think that my brother _deserves_ to die? What if I said your sister deserved to die because of something she had no control over?" Frank didn't expect an answer but just shook his head and turned back to follow the path.

Rachel looked thoughtfully at Frank's back as he continued up the path. Her steps were a little slower as she fell into step behind him.

It was about fifteen minutes later that they arrived at what Frank knew was "camp." There was a cooler, a camping chair, and a tree that was twenty inches in diameter with a chain attached to it. There was a five gallon bucket with a lid nearby with toilet paper on top. Frank stopped and looked at the situation. It didn't look too good for him.

"Walk over next to the chain and get down on the ground." When Frank didn't move she said, "Marilyn's expecting a call. Down. Now."

As Frank carefully got down on his knees, he asked, "Are you really willing to die for this?"

"That's just it. I know you won't kill me. So, if you decide that you want to go after your brother and you overpower me, which I know would be easy, you won't kill me. Tie me up maybe or knock me out. The kicker is that you can't make me tell Marilyn the phrases she expects to hear. She'll know you're free." Moving quickly over to Frank, she used her booted foot to push him over.

Once Frank had spit the leaves from his mouth and got a good lungful of air, he asked, "She's already planning to kill him, so how could I make it any worse?"

Rachel grabbed the nearby chain and then sat on Frank's back. "Later it wouldn't really matter, except it would make Marilyn go faster instead of taking her time." She undid one of the cuffs and then attached the other to the heavy chain. "Hands above your head." As Frank complied, she scooted up on his back and attached another handcuff to his free wrist and then to the chain. She then stood and backed away. "Right now, Marilyn's waiting for a call and she probably has her gun trained on your brother right now. If I fail to make the call or say the wrong thing, she kills him right now."

Frank's hands were now in front of him and he pushed himself up. He examined the chain and the cuffs. There would be no getting free without a key or something to pick the lock. Frank looked at Rachel. He didn't see the anger that had been there earlier. "Make the call." If she really wanted Joe dead, all she had to do was not make the call. His muscles began to tighten as she made no move for the sat phone. "Please."

A slight breeze caused the branches above their heads to sway and creak. Rachel reached down and unclipped the phone and made the call. "We're here and he's secured."

"Any problems?"

"None."

"Excellent. I'll let Joseph know it's time to start the hunt."

Rachel ended the call and attached the phone back to her belt. "Now we wait." She turned and went to the camping chair. She moved it so it was facing Frank but out of his range and sat down.

Frank remained standing and said, "Don't you think killing my brother is a little extreme? I know that your dad is in prison and you miss him, but _he's alive_. Your mom and sister _are alive_ and your sister is doing fine."

Looking down at her hands, Rachel asked, "Is Olivia really doing fine?"

Sitting down where he was, Frank began to relate to Rachel everything that their dad had done to help Sandy and Olivia – including searching for her. Rachel seemed shocked. "You know, your mother emailed my dad and asked him for the help. Both myself and our parents weren't too keen on the idea but Joe wanted dad to help." Deciding to be honest with Rachel, he decided to tell some more personal things. "Joe had some problems with depression at the end of last year related to Morgan Harris' death in North Carolina. It-" he breath hitched, "it was pretty tough. We were afraid that searching for you might cause Joe to dwell too much on Laird." Frank gave a small smile and said, "But he wouldn't have any of it. He said that all of you were innocent victims and that dad should help. He was rather vocal about it."

Rachel frowned at him, "Your dad helped anyway?"

"Yes. And after meeting your mom and sister, he told Joe that he was right. You, Olivia, and your mom were all innocent victims."

Rachel stood. "Things aren't what they seen. I'm sure she won't-" Rachel broke off suddenly and turned for the woods.

"What do you mean-" Frank interjected with some hope stealing into his voice.

"I need to think about this. I'll be back later."

She turned and strode away in the direction that he felt the escarpment was in. "Wait!" he called out but she didn't stop or turn around. He estimated it was about 10 a.m. Sunset was 7:15. Joe had about nine hours to get from their camp to here. There was a mountain, several streams, and the escarpment to overcome. And Marilyn had already checked the terrain. He closed his eyes and said a prayer.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** I just had to laugh at receiving two requests for Joe to remain shirtless. :-) While I am greatly tempted by that thought myself, it is a cold morning and as someone who doesn't like to be cold, I had to give him the tee shirt at least. And now the hunt begins!

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

 _Rachel and Frank have arrived at the spot where they will leave the SUV and walk to the camp. Rachel has made the call to Marilyn. Back at the Hardy's camp…_

Joe watched Marilyn closely. She was sitting with her back against a tree on the far side of the camp with her rifle resting lightly across her thighs. Her eyes were closed and she seemed unconcerned about his presence. Right before the last check-in she had uncuffed him and allowed him to put his tee shirt back on. He had given her a glare when she made the comment on the phone about him putting his clothes back on. It implied that more had been off than his shirt and was just another manipulation on her part. When she didn't cuff him after his shirt was back on, he was surprised. She had only told him to sit against the tree and wait. It seemed that she really did believe that he and Frank wouldn't endanger the other. And she was right.

Marilyn opened her eyes to find Joe looking at her. She smiled back. "Just one more check-in. It will probably be in about twenty minutes. Then it will be time for the hunt.

"Do I get to take anything with me?"

After standing and doing a slight stretch, Marilyn reached into one of the larger pockets on her hunting jacket. She pulled out a waterproof map. She looked at her watch and said, "I think it's okay for you to have it now." She tossed the map into his lap and then stepped away. I have marked three locations: this camp, your destination and the location of the gun."

Joe looked at the map. The destination was outside the park and in the state game lands. Gun shots there wouldn't draw any attention. He checked the distance again and then looked at his watch. That's a pretty far distance to go in less than nine hours and the location of the gun is in the wrong direction." Irritation was in his tone and it reminded him of some of his conversations with Dominic Laird.

Marilyn laughed, "I didn't say it would be easy. It's a challenge and you've always been up to them in the past." She stopped speaking and moved over to Joe's backpack and begin going through it. "Oh, and at the gun location is a GPS tagged beacon. You need to activate it within thirty minutes of your departure from camp or I'll be calling Rachel. Don't try to take it with you to get more distance from me. It's got a GPS for a reason. When you trigger it, that's when the hunt begins." She stopped speaking as she pulled out a Bible. "Really?" She asked as she turned to him and waved the book in the air. "A Bible?"

Nodding, Joe said, "Yes. Frank and I were planning on camping until Sunday afternoon so we'd miss church. We planned to read some scripture in the morning. We thought it would be nice considering the beauty of the area."

Marilyn gave an unladylike snort.

"You should try reading it sometime. You might learn something."

Marilyn put the Bible back in the bag and stood. "I know enough. An eye for an eye."

"I'd say that your husband being in jail and killing me or my brother isn't an eye for an eye," Joe responded.

Shrugging, Marilyn said, "It works for me and I'm more about retribution anyway."

"I don't think you understand that word. I'd say you're more about revenge and vengeance."

Her eyes narrowed. "Enough talk, Joseph. The winner can decide how to best describe it."

Joe could see he'd riled her up so he decided the best thing to do would be to close his eyes and be quiet. He'd rest for a bit because he'd be on the move for the rest of the day. Getting to that gun was going to be difficult in just thirty minutes because he wanted to get the hatchet. Unfortunately, the hatchet wasn't on a straight course to the gun.

It was a short while later that he noticed that Marilyn was pacing. After about a minute of watching her, he finally asked, "Is there a problem?"

Marilyn stopped and looked at her watch. "Rachel has been earlier than predicted on all her other calls."

"Is she past due?" Joe couldn't help but ask.

"No, but this is one of the parts where your brother could actually escape." Marilyn pulled her gun from its holster.

Joe looked from the gun to Marilyn's face. "You'd really shoot me now?"

"Yes, if your brother has been stupid enough to try something." Marilyn looked at her watch again.

"Frank may be many things, but stupid isn't one of them." Joe's voice was calm. There was no way that Frank would do anything to endanger him. But if there were an accident…. Joe moved to stand up and Marilyn pointed the gun at him.

"Sit back down."

She might not kill him for standing up, but he didn't need a gunshot wound while racing through the forest. He lowered his body back to the ground and the pistol dropped as the call came through.

"We're here and he's secured," Rachel's voice sounded through the phone.

"Any problems?"

"None."

"Excellent. I'll let Joseph it's time to start the hunt." Marilyn clipped the phone back to her belt. "Take off your watch and put it with your bag."

Joe stood and removed his watch and placed it inside his bag. It was a big disadvantage- not having the watch. He stretched a little. The day had warmed up some but he'd been sitting on the cold ground and without a shirt for a large amount of time. He felt somewhat stiff as he looked to Marilyn for the signal to start the hunt.

After pressing a few buttons on her watch, Marilyn said, "Go." As he ran away from her in the direction of gun location, she called after him, "Thirty minutes, Joseph!"

Joe set as fast of a pace as he could and once he was out of her view, he quickly diverted toward the stream and the place where the hatchet had been yesterday. Five minutes later, he had the hatchet under his belt. If he fell, he might seriously injure himself but he didn't want to run with it in his hand either. Joe ran for a couple more minutes and then stopped to catch his breath and to consult the map. Yes. He was back on track toward the location of the gun.

Fifteen minutes later he was at the location. The only problem was, he couldn't tell where the gun was located. He had thought that it would be marked in a way that he could easily find it. He berated himself for not asking Marilyn about how to identify the gun's location. Turning in a 360 degree rotation, he scanned the area. It would have to be something that she would know he would recognize. And then his eyes landed on a large flat rock that was about five feet wide. On top of it were some smaller rocks- rocks that looked out of place. Joe ran to the flat stone and looked at the smaller rocks. They were rounded and smooth as if they had been weathered by water. Touching one, Joe realized they were very much like the rocks on the beach of Lake Superior. Moving from the rock to the ground around it, he knelt and ran his hands along the edge. There under some leaf cover, he found a 9mm pistol. He checked the magazine and chamber. One round was all she gave him. He would have to shoot to kill or she would hunt him down with her fully loaded gun and kill him. The beacon! His hands went back to the leaves and found a small round device. He pressed the button on the top and it lit with a soft blue glow.

A flashback to a different place and time came to him. _Thirty seconds… Time starts… Now._ The words of Dominic Laird came to him as he put the pistol in the waistband of his pants at his back. Pulling the map out of his back pocket, he looked around and then oriented himself to the map. He took off at a fast jog. He needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and Marilyn. As he ran between the trees he thought about finding Marilyn and just ending it that way. But he shook his head. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't be the cold-hearted hunter that the Lairds were. But if they crossed paths along the way to the escarpment where Frank was… he'd do what was necessary to end it.

He'd been going hard for about an hour when he came to a stream. This one was bigger than the one near his camp; it had to be over twenty yards wide. He stood in the edge of the trees and looked around. There was a footbridge about thirty yards downstream from where he was. According to the map, this was the only dry crossing for the stream for a mile in either direction. He couldn't afford to go that far off course and get to Frank by sundown. But this was a very exposed area and he'd have to be careful even though he was sure Marilyn was still behind him. Joe stayed in the tree line and moved until he was directly across from the footbridge. As he stepped from behind a tree, a glint of sunlight on metal from up in a tree caught his eye and he dropped to the ground as a shot rang out. He moved quickly to position himself behind the tree again with his back against it as he sat on the ground. He looked at the splinters from the tree on the ground. _If I hadn't seen the flash of sunlight,_ he thought grimly. _How did she get here so fast?_ Pushing himself up, he kept his back to the trees and called out loudly, "How did you get ahead of me?"

"I decided you wouldn't try to escape so I decided I'd go ahead and come here where I figured you'd try to cross." Marilyn's voice carried across the sounds of the stream.

"You were supposed to wait to hunt me." Joe almost rolled his eyes at himself. Since when did murders follow rules of conduct?

"Well, technically I wasn't hunting you, Joseph. I just came to a spot I thought you might come to and waited. That wasn't really hunting."

"Semantics!" Joe yelled back.

"My dictionary!" she called back. "I'm going to stay here for at least thirty minutes. You can wait me out and cross here or you can move up or down stream and cross through the water. All depends on how much time you're willing to waste."

Joe closed his eyes. Thirty minutes. He could easily get to one of the other bridges and cross in that amount of time but he'd be going fifteen minutes at least in the wrong direction and then another fifteen minutes on the other side to get back on track. He needed to cross the bridge here to stay on his time schedule. The map crinkled in his hand as he pulled it from his pocket again. He realized now why she had given him a waterproof map. Joe looked from the map to the stream he could see through the trees. He'd go downstream. There was a shallow area there and if he did get swept away, it wouldn't have him floating past Marilyn. Putting the map away, he began to walk straight into the forest. He didn't want his movements to give away which direction he was going to Marilyn.

Fifteen minutes later, he was winded and standing in the trees near the spot he planned to enter. The terrain had been a little rougher than he had expected with downed trees and steep inclines. There was no way he could go for the bridge further down as the terrain didn't get much better. Carefully looking for sunlight on metal, Joe moved to the stream. Standing at the edge, he carefully stepped in. This was a good spot. The water was only three to four foot deep at its deepest according to the map. But it was extremely cold. He would have loved to have taken off his boots, socks, and pants to cross, but the threat of a shooter in the woods made that impossible. When he did get across, he decided he should have chanced it and removed his pants before crossing. The wet denim was extremely uncomfortable. It was going to be a hindrance to him but there was nothing he could do about it now.

He made sure the gun and hatchet were secure and then pulled his map out. It looked like he'd have cover for the next five miles and then he'd have to deal with another stream _. Great._ Studying the map he realized that the next stream was little more than a creek and should be easy to cross. Easier that is unless there's a woman in a tree nearby with a rifle. It was time to get moving, Marilyn's thirty minutes were about up. He was putting the map back into his pocket when he heard a distinctive sound- an engine. Joe almost moved in the direction of the sound when memories of ATVs came back to him. The first time was outside of the North Carolina compound and then on the beach in Michigan. Neither time had the ATVs meant anything but trouble for him and his gut was telling him that this time was the same. As he took off through the trees, he tried to stay in the thicker areas- areas where the ATV couldn't go. If she found where he crossed though, he'd be in trouble because she'd be able to determine his direction. _Crap_ , he thought. _Can't I catch a break?_ The rubbing of the wet denim against his legs answered 'no.'

Two hours later he was near the creek. He had stopped where he was close enough to hear the water but not see it. Since it was a creek he figured he was pretty close but he needed to slow his breathing and rest for at least fifteen minutes. He had barely stopped on the five mile hike and he was hot and sweaty now. In most survival situations, you really don't want to sweat in cold weather. His choices were limited however. So now his pants were still on the wet side and his shirt was almost as damp from sweat. There were numerous stinging scratches caused by branches and the occasional fall. The right knee of his jeans was busted open from a spill he took on a rock. Joe pulled the hatchet from his belt and dropped it to the ground and then pulled the pistol from his waistband. With the pistol in one hand and his map in the other, Joe sat down with his back against a tree. His stomach growled at him in frustration. He was hungry and thirsty. He'd chance taking a few swallows of the creek water if it was running clear when he crossed.

Joe looked up at the sun that he could see pretty well through the leafless branches. _Wish I had my watch_. He looked back at the map and then back at the sky. _2:00, maybe 3:00?_ He thought. He had between four and five hours to cover the rest of the terrain which included the escarpment and some hilly terrain. Joe closed his eyes and said a prayer. On the map, it looked like he had between eight and nine miles to cover. He could do three miles an hour easy when he was fresh, but he was far from that now and it would only get worse as the day went on. By the time he got to the escarpment, he'd be exhausted and climbing would be a bear especially with his sore knee. No doubt Marilyn would be waiting to pick him off if he couldn't find a spot to climb with cover. The escarpment was about sixty feet in most areas with a lot of hand and foot holds. The problem would be how much energy would he have left and how exposed would he be.

Standing back up, Joe realized just how sore he was. Tripping over limbs, roots, and vines had pulled his muscles as well as the strain of practically jogging over this terrain for hours. He stretched a little and then put away the pistol and the map. After retrieving his hatchet from the ground, he moved toward the sounds of the stream. He waited for at least ten minutes, studying the surrounding area. Nothing moved and normal forest sounds were all he heard. Joe carefully moved to the stream and knelt. He cupped his hands in the water and brought them up to his face without glancing down. He had to stay alert. Still no sounds as he drank the water. He drank some more and then quickly crossed the stream which only came up to mid-calf. _Miles to go_ , he thought as he moved into the forest.

.**********.

Marilyn sat quietly in the tree as she watched Joe cross the stream. She had his back in her gun sight as he drank his water. But she put it down as he stood and moved into the woods. She was half a mile away in a tree on the mountainside that he had just come down. Earlier, she had found his wet exit point from the stream and had estimated where he would probably cross. Finding the vantage point was perfect and with her binoculars, she had scanned the area until she found him. She understood why her husband found hunting him to be so entertaining. He was resourceful, smart, and in shape for taking on these grueling hunts. She would never have been able to have stayed with him on foot and if she didn't know where he was going, she would probably have a difficult time tracking him. She had noticed that he had something in his belt. She wasn't sure what it was as it was on the opposite side from where she was, but she knew it had a handle. Perhaps it was a hammer or small ax he had found along the way. She couldn't blame him for picking it up and she would have to watch for it when they were in close quarters. And they would be in close quarters that evening. He would be tired and worn out with the escarpment in front of him. That is where she planned to confront him. It would be close enough to the camp that Frank could hear the shot. She smiled as she moved to climb down the tree. She wouldn't chance a gunfight with Joe when he was rested even though she herself was an expert shot. The son of a detective most likely knew his way around a handgun. But Joe would have been on the run for over six hours without food and with little water. He would be unsteady and she would have him. The only question that remained was whether she'd shoot for the heart to end things in a cinematic way or if she'd shoot him in the head which would no doubt leave his brother with that ghastly image for the rest of his life. She dropped lightly to ground and moved in the direction of her ATV. Such pleasant choices she had.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** Okay, so there's no Joe or Frank in this story, but it's vital to the rest of the story. ;-)

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

 _Quebec City, Saturday morning…_

It was 5:00 a.m. and Fenton couldn't sleep. Finally, he sat up in his bed and said, "I give up. I'm taking a shower." As he stood, he muttered about what it meant to be talking to yourself before the sun was up. After taking a hot shower and dressing, he sat at the desk in his hotel room with his computer. It was in the process of booting up with various screens coming to life. Fenton's thoughts were a little scattered. He moved to the small coffee maker that was in the room and put on a pot of coffee to brew. It wasn't even 6:00 a.m. and the hotel breakfast didn't start until then. He'd eat then and then head to the local police station where the investigation was being coordinated. But for now, he'd look over his notes and the evidence that had been gathered. Things weren't adding up and when things didn't make sense in some sort of fashion, it made Fenton nervous. Why the rash of sightings now? Everything pointed to Marilyn and Rachel being here. There were people who would swear that the photo of Marilyn matched a woman they had personally seen. But she had always been so careful. For her to suddenly disregard her carefully guarded whereabouts wasn't logical. He opened a file and scanned all the pictures that had been gathered so far. _Somehow this woman has managed to not have her face clearly photographed without having on a scarf, a brimmed hat, or large sunglasses. It's almost as if she wants to be seen but not recognized. What would be gained by this? Why would she do this?_

The coffee maker beeped and Fenton left the desk to get a cup. In his haste, he managed to spill some on his shirt. "I bet that's going to stain," he said out loud as he put down the cup and unbuttoned his shirt. After changing into another, he carefully took a few sips and was heading back to the computer when his cell phone rang. "Hardy."

"It's Gilroy. Come on down to the station, we have another sighting."

Fenton poured the coffee into the sink and closed up his laptop. "When? Where?" he asked as he loaded the machine into his bag.

"It was last night but we just found out this morning," Fenton stopped and grabbed his coat. Shrugging into it, he said, "Any chance she'll revisit the place today?"

"Unfortunately, no, but the clerk who was working last night and this morning said that the woman indicated she'd try to find the product at another store the next day. She had been looking for a certain kind of face cream and the store didn't have it. It was an unusual brand for the store and that's why the clerk remembered her so clearly."

As the room door closed behind Fenton, he asked, "Do any of the stores she's been to before carry the cream?"

"Yes, and we plan to stake out the two stores today."

"I want to be in on that."

Fenton could almost hear the smile in Chris Gilroy's voice as he responded, "Wouldn't dream of keeping you away."

Smiling himself, Fenton entered the elevator and punched the lobby level, "Glad to hear it. Do you fellas have any breakfast there by any chance?"

"Coffee and Danish."

"Perfect," Fenton replied. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"See you then," Gilroy replied and hung up.

"Let this be the day," Fenton said to himself as the door to the elevator opened.

 _2:00 p.m._

Fenton drummed his fingers on the table where he sat. It was a pastry shop across from one of the stores that sells the face cream that Marilyn wanted. He'd been here for seven hours and he'd eaten a number of pastries and drank way too much coffee. His leg was bouncing under the table, much like Joe's did when he was agitated. He smiled. It was another trait that he shared with his son although it usually took coffee to bring it out in him where Joe just needed to be agitated.

The agent across from him was silent as he watched the opposite direction on the street. Fenton's thoughts turned to what had occurred since the sightings began. He still needed to figure out what was going on. So he began making a mental list about the events: attention was focused on Quebec City, more sightings of Marilyn, detailed interaction between Marilyn and clerk, he had been holed up in this pastry shop for the whole day. The words 'increased sightings' and 'whole day' ran through his mind several times. He was here and not at home. His chest tightened. He wasn't at home and his boys were on a survival campout where cell phone service wouldn't be good.

Fenton closed his laptop that was on the table. "I'll call for a replacement. I've got to go," he told the startled agent in front of him. Pulling his coat on and slinging the bag over his shoulder, he ignored the calls from the agent behind him. Fenton reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and never broke stride on his way to the parking garage. Pressing the speed dial for Gilroy, he didn't even wait for the agent to say his name. "Chris. I've got a gut feeling. I'm going home. I think the sightings are a just a ruse to keep me away from my family."

"Why do you think that? Do you have anything to go on?"

"Just my gut and instincts as a father," Fenton said as he reached into his other pocket and rummaged around for the rental car's keys.

"You've got to have something to go on," Chris prodded further.

"It's just odd that suddenly we've had all these sighting but without a clear picture of the woman." Fenton could see the car now. "It's brought me here and my sons are off camping this weekend in an area where cell phone service is spotty."

"Fenton-" Gilroy began.

"I know," Fenton said before Gilroy could continue. "I'm not asking for you to send agents. I'm just calling to say that I'm going home to check on my sons. If this is a ploy to draw me away-" Fenton stopped speaking as he couldn't finish that sentence. "I'm at the car. I'll call you later when I know the boys are all right."

"Understood. I'll call you when we catch her," Gilroy replied.

"I hope you do, because that will mean she's far away from Joe." Fenton tossed his bag into the backseat and got in. He'd make some calls to check on flights on his way to grab his things from the hotel. If there wasn't a commercial flight to Wilkes-Barre, and he was afraid there wouldn't be, he'd charter a private plane. By the time he reached the hotel he had determined that a commercial flight wasn't going to work. There were no direct flight and most flights required more than one connection and would take him over six hours if everything was on time. He didn't have time for that. He had a private charter service hired and they would be ready to taxi in one and a half hours. He had plenty of time to grab his things and to contact Sam and Laura.

Once he was at the airport, he called Sam and gave him what he had. Sam had seen Fenton's gut reaction be on target more times than it was off target. He was going to go pick up Laura and the two of them would head to Wilkes-Barre together to Whitaker's State Park. If Fenton was lucky, he'd arrive at the park only an hour or so after Sam and Laura.

Fenton looked at the clock, the charter service told him they'd be ready in an hour. He drew a deep breath and called his wife. Laura hadn't argued at all but said that she'd contact the park service and see if they could check on the camp and she'd be ready to ride with Sam when he arrived. When Fenton hung up, he sat back in the cushioned chair that faced a large picture window that showcased the small planes that were available for charter. Usually, he found the scene to be comforting and interesting. Today, he could only think about the minutes slipping by. They were minutes he'd never get back. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back and prayed they weren't minutes he'd regret.

.**********.

When Laura hung up with Fenton, she immediately looked up the park number and asked for a ranger to go check on the campsite. After providing her number, she hurried to change her clothes and get her firearm. She was on the porch waiting when Sam drove up. They had been driving for about a quarter of an hour when the park service called back to say that the van was in the parking area and that the camp looked fine. There was nothing out of place but the boys weren't there. They had left a note asking the boys to check in at the ranger station when they returned. They counseled Laura that the boys had selected an area that had only one other camping group and it was in the opposite direction of their camp. She had thanked them for their assistance and hung up.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Sam," Laura said as she stared unseeing at the road in front of her.

"Me too, Laura. Are you going to call Fenton?" he asked while looking out his side window as he merged onto a major highway.

Laura looked at her phone. It would only knot her up more inside if she called Fenton. "I'd told him I'd call when I knew something." Pressing the text button, she said, "I'll let him know we're on our way and that the rangers say the camp and the van look okay."

"I guess that's about all there is to say," Sam said as he set the cruise control for over the speed limit.

After sending the message, Laura looked over at Sam's phone that was sitting in the console. It had a mapping program up and it was showing their progress toward the park. _We're still an hour and a half away. What will we find? Will we be in time? Heavens, I wish Fenton were here._ She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. Watching the map program would only serve to give her a headache.

About half an hour later, her phone buzzed indicating an incoming message. She read it and looked to Sam. "Fenton says they've just taken off. It will take him two hours to get to Wilkes-Barre. He'll call us when he has a vehicle."

Sam nodded and Laura closed her eyes after another look at the map program. They were still an hour away.

About an hour later they were only fifteen minutes from the park. Laura's phone buzzed and she looked at the screen. "Can you pull over Sam? I missed a call. Must be the spotty cell phone coverage in the area." As Sam pulled off into a gas station parking lot Laura accessed her voicemail. Her face went white as Sam looked at her in concern. Pulling her phone from her ear, she pressed the speakerphone button and Marilyn Laird's voice could be heard.

"…to have missed you. But maybe it's best this way. You're too far away to help them anyway." Her laugh was heard. "Sorry, I'm rambling. Let me get to the point. Find the map and you'll find your boys." The call ended.

"We need to call Fenton," Sam said. "Can he access your voicemail?"

Laura was having a tough time concentrating on Sam's words but she thought carefully. "No, but I can send it to him. Can you call him while I'm doing that?"

"Sure."

As Laura went through the process of forwarding the VM, she heard Fenton's voice as he discussed the situation with Sam.

"… continue on to the camp. No matter what, we'll need that map and that's where it has to be. She knows that's the first place we'll look." Fenton's voice was calm and assured.

"Right," Sam responded as he sat the phone in the console and pulled back onto the road.

"Laura's message has just come through. I'm going to listen to it and then we'll make a plan." Fenton paused. "Laura, are you okay?"

"No. I'll be okay when I have Frank and Joe with me. That's when I'll be okay." Her voice didn't waver although she felt sheer terror on the inside. She needed to put her anxiety aside if she was going to be any help to Sam.

Fenton listened to the message and they made a tentative plan as there wouldn't be cell service in the park. If they could, they'd call Fenton back after getting the map so that he'd have a direction as well. It all depended on how much time they felt they had once they had the map and where they had to go. Marilyn would feel that she had a good two hours before Laura or Sam could get to Whitaker's. That's how much time she would feel she had to do what she wanted to do without interference. She wouldn't be expecting them this early, and that was their best bet to get the boys back alive.

 _6:00 p.m._

 _Sam's car is going to need a new suspension,_ Laura thought as the car hit another pothole on the lightly used gravel road that they were on. An hour and a half before they had found the map that Marilyn had mentioned. It was laying right next to Joe's sleeping bag in his tent. After looking over the map, Sam had said it was going to take them between an hour and an hour and a half to get there and that would be speeding to a parking lot in the game lands and them jogging from that parking area to the place marked on the map. As they stood in the boys' campsite, she had told him to set the pace and she'd keep up. She was breathing heavy when they got back to the car and had to catch her breath before she could call Fenton. But then, she had to wait to get out of the park to get service again. When she had reached Fenton, she sent him a picture of the map. He would be landing in an hour. He wasn't going to alert the FBI until he was on the ground. The last thing they wanted was for the FBI to go in with guns blazing and he didn't want to be in the air and unable to do anything. Sam and Laura agreed.

Now she and Sam were almost at the parking area that was closest to the location marked on the map. Her mind returned to the bizarre message that Marilyn had left her. _Why did she do it?_ Laura thought back to the magazine cover that Marilyn had sent Joe months ago. _That 'message' wasn't just for Joe, it had been sent to manipulate the whole family. And who would be more upset about that kind of a message than me? The flowers, the text, each contact was meant for all of them. Each one saying, 'I'm going to take him from you and you can't stop me.' Marilyn has been toying with us for months and now she's poised to twist a knife in each of us._ Laura closed her eyes for a moment as Sam hit a particularly bad pothole but then opened them as she played Marilyn's scenario in her head. _Joe dies. Frank can't stop it and might even be there to witness it. Fenton is lured away and isn't there to save the son he promised to protect. And herself. Given clues to where her sons are but too far away to do anything to stop Marilyn. Laura clutched the handle over the window. If she succeeds… No. I won't let her._ But the thought was there. If Marilyn were successful in killing Joe, it could destroy her family.

Finally they were at the parking area. The only other vehicle was an SUV. Sam looked inside and shook his head. Nothing was there. Surveying the lot, they could clearly see there were two trails that had been recently used leading away from the main road. After consulting the map, they decided that Sam would take the trail that most likely led to the top of the escarpment and Laura would take the trail that went to the bottom. She would try to find her way to the point that would be in the path from the boys' camp to the spot marked above the escarpment. Both of them felt that one or both of the boys were being forced to travel across the park and to the game lands as part of a hunt. Laura's blood ran cold at the thought. On the way to the parking lot, Laura had voiced her fear to Sam and he had concurred with her. Most likely it was Joe that was being hunted across the forest. And what could make him participate in a hunt? A threat to his brother. Both Sam and Laura checked their weapons and their cell phones. Laura's had no service and Sam's had one bar but when he pressed the call key, a dial tone didn't register. Each grabbed a flashlight from the trunk. They would be on their own, but both agreed that if either heard a gunshot, they'd head in that direction.

"Hopefully we'll find them before it gets dark," Laura said as each headed down their path. She would stop Marilyn's plan. She wouldn't let her family be destroyed. This is why she had gone back to the shooting range. This is what she was prepared to do. She'd protect her boys with her life.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** Well, Frank's back at least. And to the "guest" reviewer - I think you should find another story.

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

 _Earlier in the day around 2:30_ …

Frank had been on his own for several hours when Rachel finally came back into what was their little camp. As she came closer, he stood up. The chains jangled from his wrists which were quite red and starting to bleed in places from the cuffs and the heavy chain pulling on them. He noted that her head was down and her pace was slow. Unsure what her frame of mind was, he decided to ask a relatively safe question.

"Can I have some water?" he asked. She was walking toward the cooler already, so hopefully he'd get something to drink as well as a chance to talk her into letting him go.

Rachel walked purposefully toward the cooler and opened the lid. She reached in and pulled out a water and a package of peanut butter crackers. She let the lid drop and then took a few steps in Frank's direction. She tossed the water first and after he put it down, she tossed him the crackers.

"Thanks," he said as he sat down where he was and opened the crackers as he watched her move back to the cooler. She pulled out a water and crackers for herself and then moved to the camping chair. They ate in silence for about five minutes.

"You know, I was just angry at what happened with my father and then when Olivia's tests came back showing there might be a problem…" Rachel's voice dropped away and she put a cracker in her mouth.

"It's understandable that you were angry and then worried about your sister," Frank said. He had practically inhaled the crackers and was drinking slowly on the water.

"Marilyn contacted me through a chat room on a game I played. She told me that Joe had gone home to a perfect life. His family was well and his girlfriend was waiting for him." She paused and took a sip of water. "It made me angrier." A grim laugh sounded from her lips as she stared unseeingly into the trees. "Then she told me that Joe was a star football player. I did a web search and found it was true. There were pictures of a smiling Joe Hardy, pictures of Joe running the ball, everything showed that he had just returned and stepped back into his picture perfect life. Things were going great for him while my family was struggling to pay rent and then there were Olivia's test results."

"No one would blame you for being angry at what happened to your family. But it wasn't Joe's fault." Frank saw her frown and continued, "And everything wasn't perfect for Joe. He had to use crutches for weeks after he came home because of the animal trap that nearly broke his leg."

"Animal trap?" Rachel asked in confusion.

"I thought you knew what happened to Joe when he was at Laird's," Frank said in surprise.

Rachel looked away from him as she answered. "I didn't want to know what happened. I knew that Mr. Laird hunted Joe and others and that a lot of them died-"

"ALL of them died, Rachel. They were all murdered. All but Joe," Frank interrupted.

Rachel looked at the crackers in her hand and threw them into the woods. Once her hands were empty she put her head in them.

"Joe would have died too eventually," Frank said softly. Murder was the correct word to use, but associating her father as a murder accomplice probably wouldn't help his case right now. "I understand why you didn't want to know all the details, but if you're going to be angry enough at someone to help murder them, you should know the truth."

Rachel's head lifted quickly. "I'm not helping her murder him. I'm just watching you."

"But you would have stabbed me with the knife and killed me if Marilyn had said too."

The blood seemed to leave Rachel's face as she responded, "No. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't have done more than poke you with that knife." Rachel took a deep breath and said, "This is all a game, a sham, pretend. Marilyn and I just want to scare you and your brother. I told Marilyn I couldn't do anything with that knife. I couldn't even do it on the mannequin that she purchased. She told me that I'd have to be very serious and she showed me how I should look when we went to your camp." At Frank's surprised look, she said, "It's an act to manipulate you and your brother into thinking that she wants to kill Joe."

Frank blinked rapidly and his breathing became rapid. Rachel wasn't a threat. She had never been a threat but she was an incredible actress who would be an accomplice to murder. He calmed himself. "You'll be held accountable if she kills Joe." Then something occurred to him. "If Joe doesn't get here in time, are you going to kill me?"

Rachel shook her head no. Her voice was soft as she responded, "Didn't you hear me? Marilyn never planned on killing you or Joe. When Joe gets here tonight, she's going to scare the crap out of him. Then we'll leave him and you here chained up. When we're far enough away, we'll let someone know where you are."

Thoughts were flying through Frank's brain. Marilyn had convinced Rachel that this was all an elaborate game. How could he convince her that it wasn't? "The trip here. Joe's not going to be able to do it is he?"

"I've heard from Marilyn. Joe's fine."

Frank dropped his head into his hands. Joe was still on his way here. He had maybe four hours before Joe got to the bottom of the cliff. When Frank raised his eyes to Rachel's he saw for the first time true doubt shadowing the teenager's face. "Marilyn has been conditioning you to despise Joe. You watched us for weeks, what did you see?"

Rachel closed her eyes. "I saw what looked like a perfect life with a perfect family."

"We're not perfect but we do love each other." Frank paused. "I _love_ my brother, Rachel. You know what it feels like to love your sister. I love my brother the same way. You may be acting, but Marilyn's not. At Laird's sentencing, he made it a point to let us know that Marilyn was an expert shot. The FBI told us that the two of them met while big game hunting and that Marilyn was actually thought to be the better hunter." He paused as she watched her expression change to one of horror and then to a blank façade. "She doesn't plan on letting Joe live. Help me _save him_ , Rachel. _Help me_." Frank pleaded. Rachel didn't say anything but stood and walked away. She paused when he spoke. "And if not Joe, then think about yourself. If she kills Joe, will she let you walk away knowing everything that you know?" Rachel walked back into the woods, down the trail that led to the SUV. The die was cast. Based on that conversation, he felt that Rachel would make her decision and there would be no changing it. The question was, if she decided to help him would she decide in time?

Frank was pacing when Rachel returned around 4:30. He stopped when he saw her in the edge of the trees. Desperation had to be clearly etched on his face as he looked at her. Sunset was in three hours.

"I've been sitting in the vehicle listening to the radio. I almost left. I don't want to be part of this anymore but I'm not a murderer. I'm not!" She paused a moment as the words rang out in the air. "What will happen to me if I help you?" Fear colored her voice.

"You're still a juvenile. Marilyn used you and conditioned you. I honestly don't know what will happen," the last thing he wanted was for Rachel to think he was just telling her what she wanted to hear. "I will speak for you."

Rachel drew a deep breath. "I just talked with Marilyn. She says that Joe is a few miles away and she thinks he'll be here around six o'clock."

Frank looked at his watch. It was an hour and a half away. The trip back to the vehicle would take him a good fifteen minutes, then at least thirty minutes on roads that were hardly traveled. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to work out what he could do. He couldn't go looking for Joe because he might miss him, or worse, run into Marilyn himself. The sat phone. "Your phone, does it have other channels? Can I call out?"

"No. Marilyn made sure to tell me that it could only be used to contact her phone. But you're welcome to look at it," she said as she walked forward. She stopped just out of reach. Her eyes were sad as she said, "I really thought Joe should pay in some way. I'm sorry that it took all this time for me to realize that he doesn't deserve it and you most certainly don't." She handed him the phone as she pulled the cuff key out of her pocket with the other hand. In moments, she had the cuffs off Frank.

He carefully removed the casing on the phone and discovered that it had been heavily modified. It only looked like a sat phone. Perhaps with a lot of tinkering he could get it to a different channel but then he wasn't sure he could get it back to the channel Marilyn was on and that would be disastrous. She wouldn't wait for Joe to get to the escarpment, she'd go find him and take him out. Frank looked at his watch and then to Rachel. I can't modify the phone and I can't go for help."

"I could go," Rachel said.

Frank looked at her. Joe's life was on the line and Rachel was in a fragile state right now. He didn't think she'd be the best at explaining what was going on to a stranger. Plus, she'd have to remain calm to answer any calls from Marilyn. So, he shook his head no. "I need you here to talk to Marilyn if she calls. Plus, I don't think anyone would believe you." Now for the hard part. "I need to know where you are." Before he could go further, she held out her wrists.

"I understand."

She really had done a 180. He shook his head no. "I would but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if Marilyn came back and found you here."

Rachel paled as she put her hands down. "You really think she'd kill me?"

Frank looked at her as she moved to take a seat in the camping chair.

"You don't have to answer, I know the answer." She still looked shaken as she reached her hand in her pocket and pulled out the keys to the SUV and tossed them to him. "This way you know I won't get far. I'll wait over in the trees where I can watch the camp but not be seen if she comes back."

"Thank you," Frank said as he pocketed the keys. He wished she had made the decision a lot earlier, but at least she had made the right choice. "Do you have a weapon beside the knife?"

"No. Marilyn was afraid you'd take it from me."

Frank nodded and picked up the knife from where Rachel had placed it. He carefully put it through his belt loop. He was going to go to the escarpment and wait for his brother. He didn't really know what else to do at the moment. As he jogged into the woods towards the escarpment, he heard Rachel call out, "Good luck, Frank!" He knew he'd need more than luck and said a prayer.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** Surprise! So, I just couldn't wait to post this chapter. Sorry that this is short, but the story begged to have a break here. And yes, I will make you wait until Tuesday for the next chapter. ;-)

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

 _Almost 6:00 p.m._ …

Joe sat with his back against yet another tree. The chill in the air managing to raise goose bumps over his heated skin. The sun was just dipping behind the neighboring mountain and the temperature had been dropping over the last hour. The temperature wasn't the problem, it was his protesting muscles that were burning, cramping, and shaking from the extreme exertion that he had put his body through. He was still panting and trying to catch his breath as he pulled fingers wet with blood from his right side. It had only been fifteen minutes ago that he had taken a bad fall where he landed more with his body than with his knees. Unfortunately, it was also on the side where he was carrying the hatchet. Looking at the blood on his fingers, he realized it could have been much worse. It was fairly superficial but with the constant movement and exertion, the three inch cut hadn't had a chance to clot and scab.

He couldn't just keep sitting here though he wanted to. He knew his showdown with Marilyn was about to occur. There was no way that he'd be able to climb the escarpment; he'd kill himself in this exhausted state. Going around the cliff to a level area would take too much time and Marilyn wouldn't hesitate to kill Frank. He laughed a little. Frank had told him not to do anything stupid, but here he was planning to do one of the most stupid things of his life. He was going to make himself a target in the hope that Marilyn wouldn't be able to resist taunting him before she killed him. If she did taunt him, she'd be close. Hopefully, she'd be close enough that when he fired a shot he wouldn't be able to miss. And if he did miss with the gun…. His bloody fingers moved into the detritus and curled around the handle of the hatchet.

 _Enough_ , he said to himself. Groaning as he stood, he moved to put the gun and the hatchet in their places and then gripped the tree tightly as he leaned around it to look at the forbidding escarpment. Just because he was getting ready to make himself a target didn't mean that he needed to be a complete idiot. He scrutinized the rock face that was shades of gray and black in the gloom that was evening. The valley floor evened out here and lamentably for him, was open and only dotted with trees as it stretched fifty yards to the base of the cliff. There were numerous patches along the bottom of the cliff where there were trees, but he was going to have to cross the open area and a fifteen foot wide creek to get there.

Joe bit his lip. _This is insanity_. His breath quickened as he felt unwelcome moisture in his eyes. There wasn't another option if Frank was to live. Was it also insanity to think that Marilyn would let Frank live if he died? He stopped biting his lip as a noise emanated from his mouth that sounded much like a sob. _Stop it_. Exhaustion, hunger, stress, and anxiety were taking their toll and if he gave in to them, he might never leave the cover of the trees. Taking several deep breaths, he crouched down and left the shadows of the trees with the pistol gripped tightly in his hand.

Twenty yards. He was at the edge of the creek. He quickly crossed, the cold water having no bearing on his body this time.

Ten more yards. He spun with his pistol raised as his brother's voice came from above. "To your left, Joe!"

Instinctively, Joe raised his arm with the pistol as he spun to the left to find his target.

.**********.

Laura felt like she had been walking forever in the silence of the evening. She glanced at her watch. She had been walking about twenty minutes along the bottom of the escarpment. She had decided to stay along the bottom of the cliff instead of crossing the open area and going to the tree line. If someone were on the top of the cliff, she'd be too easy to spot and pick off. The thought had been chilling because that could very well be what had happened or would happen to one of her sons. Laura pushed that thought aside again as she walked carefully, scanning the area in front of her and across the open expanse. Her gun held carefully as she walked. It had been about ten minutes ago that she had decided to hold the weapon. If Marilyn were out here, she wouldn't wait for Laura to draw, she'd fire on sight. She was just coming out of an area that had several small evergreens, when she heard Frank's voice. "To your left, Joe!"

.**********.

Frank had been walking back and forth across a section at the top of the escarpment for about forty-five minutes. He had seen and heard nothing. Self-doubt filled him as he sat down for a minute to rub his eyes. _Perhaps I should have gone to the vehicle_. _Maybe I'd have help by now_. Dropping his hand from his eyes, he blinked several times. The evening shadows weren't helping anything as he scanned once again across the open area. He shifted his body so that he was on his hands and knees looking closer to the base of the cliff. _It's Joe! He came across while my eyes were shut_! Frank hurriedly scanned the trees across the way for any sign of Marilyn when movement to his right along the bottom of the cliff caught his eye. Honey blonde hair came into view and it looked like she was holding a gun. Without hesitation Frank called out, "To your left, Joe!"

As two gunshots sounded almost simultaneously, Sam Radley burst from the trees about twenty yards down from Frank.

"Sam!" Frank called out as the older man moved toward him while looking below. "How- Nevermind! Joe-" Frank looked back to the valley floor and saw his brother sprawled on the ground, unmoving.

Sam dropped to the ground beside Frank. "Do you see Laura down there?" Sam's eyes were on the ground below so he didn't see the look of horror on Frank's face. When he turned, he saw it clearly. "Dear Lord," he said and scanned below.

Frank wasn't sure he could breathe; the honey blonde hair he had assumed was Marilyn Laird could easily be the honey blonde hair of Laura Hardy in the shadows of the evening. _What have I done?_


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** Your wait is over! Hope this answers all your questions from the last chapter. Just a few chapters left.

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen**

 _A lot of this chapter will show what happened with Joe, Marilyn, and Laura after Frank said, "To your left, Joe!"…_

 _First up: Joe…_

Joe spun around at his brother's words of warning and brought his pistol to bear. Right after he pulled the trigger, a blinding, searing pain tore its way across his scalp. As he fell backwards to the ground he realized she had gone for the headshot after all. Would she just pump another bullet in him or take the time to throw his failure in his face? Should he stay down or get up? _Get up_ , he told himself. _You can't throw the hatchet like this_. As he pushed himself up, the world spun. But in this spinning world, one thing was certain. Marilyn was walking in his direction.

"Go ahead, Joseph," she taunted. "Stand up. You can even keep that hatchet of yours." Stopping about fifteen feet away, she waited for him to get to his feet.

"Run, Joe!" came Frank's voice from the top of the cliff.

"Do you want to run, Joseph?" Marilyn asked. "Aren't you ready for it to end?"

Joe pushed himself upright the hatchet gripped firmly in his hand. A rivulet of blood ran down the side of his face. "I guess you aren't as good a shot as Dominic thought."

Marilyn glanced to her left arm which showed a blood stain through the material and then back to Joe. "I'd have had you if your brother hadn't warned you." She stepped a pace closer. "And I congratulate you on being able to wing me in state that you're in." When Joe didn't respond, she said, "It's time to end this. On the count of three you throw your weapon and I fire mine. How do you feel about your brother watching you die?" Marilyn smiled. "One."

Joe gripped the hatchet tightly and brought it up waist high.

"Two." He brought it up and behind his head and rotated his body slightly as Marilyn brought her weapon part of the way up.

As the word 'three' left Marilyn's mouth, a shot sounded as Joe threw his weapon. He let the momentum carry him forward to the ground to avoid Marilyn's shot. As he lay on the ground he tried to figure out what he saw as he threw. _Marilyn had moved forward as he had thrown the hatchet. Why did she do that?_

 _Now Marilyn…_

"To your left, Joe!"

She was further away than she planned for the shot, but she hadn't expected Frank Hardy to yell a warning from the top of the escarpment. Joe was already lined up and she fired just as he moved. The burning pain in her arm was a surprise as she stepped back to gain her balance. Since she was still in the edge of the wooded spot, her foot caught on a downed limb and backwards she fell. She managed to twist to the side to avoid landing on her rifle but it also put her landing on her left arm which was the one with the wound.

She caught her breath for a minute and then worked her way to a standing position. She was a little unsteady and held on to her injured arm. It was a clean shot with an entry and exit through the fabric of her jacket. She wasn't sure how bad it was but she could move it and the shot seemed to have missed the bone. Sparing a quick glance to the top of the cliff, she began walking. All Frank could do was threaten her and throw rocks. She would deal with him and Rachel later. Right now, she needed to take care of Joseph.

He was moving and she could see now that he had a hatchet in his right hand. "Go ahead, Joseph," she taunted as she moved closer. "Stand up. You can even keep that hatchet of yours." Stopping about fifteen feet away, she waited for him to get to his feet. She noted that he had blood running down the side of his face. He'd be dead if Frank hadn't warned him. But then, she hadn't wanted to kill him like that. This would be so much better with his brother as a witness to his death and unable to stop her.

"Run, Joe!" came Frank's voice from the top of the cliff.

"Do you want to run, Joseph?" Marilyn asked. "Aren't you ready for it to end?"

Joe straightened as he looked in her direction, his eyes straying to her injured arm. "I guess you aren't as good a shot as Dominic thought."

Marilyn glanced to her left arm which showed a blood stain through the material and then back to Joe. Irritation was clear in her demeanor. "I'd have had you if your brother hadn't warned you." She stepped a pace closer. "And I congratulate you on being able to wing me in state that you're in." When Joe didn't respond, she said, "It's time to end this. On the count of three you throw your weapon and I fire mine. How do you feel about your brother watching you die?" Marilyn smiled. "One."

She watched as Joe gripped the hatchet tightly and brought it up waist high. She shifted the pistol slightly in her grip.

"Two." She watched as Joe pulled the hatchet up and behind his head and rotated his body slightly. He looked like he might actually be able to throw the thing. Marilyn brought her weapon part of the way up.

As she said, "Three," she quickly brought her gun up to fire as she watched him throw. But before she pulled the trigger, a force struck her from behind causing her to stagger forward and into the spinning hatchet. She dropped to her knees and then back. Her eyes took in two blossoming dark patches on her camouflage jacket. The one around the hatchet was the most obvious, but it was the second one that she focused on as her body fell back. She had failed to spot another party to the hunt. Someone else was playing that she didn't know about. She closed her eyes. The hunt was over and Joe had been right. He and Frank would live and she would not.

 _Now Laura…_

"To your left, Joe!"

"Frank?" Laura said softly out loud as she picked up her pace. She froze for a moment as two gunshots cracked the air almost simultaneously. "Dear God, please don't let me be too late," she prayed out loud. "Don't let me be this close and have them die!" Branches slapped her in the face as she lifted an arm to shield herself, her gun at the ready in her other hand.

"Run, Joe!" came Frank's voice.

His voice was much closer this time but it sounded from above. Frank was on the top of the escarpment, Joe most likely down on this level with her. "Daggone it, Sam! Where are you? Why aren't you with Frank?" What had happened to the man? He had a gun; he could take care of this. But it didn't matter, she was here and she'd deal with Marilyn if she had a chance.

Hitting another open area, Laura broke into a full out run and decided to skirt the trees in front of her and take her chances in the open area. If it drew fire away from her boys all the better. Then she heard a voice.

"One," the voice said loudly.

It was clear the person wanted to be heard. No. They wanted Frank to hear and know what was happening. Laura came around the evergreen and stopped. There had been no leaves to crunch or branches to crack while she was in the open area.

"Two," Marilyn's voice echoed across the area.

Laura brought her gun to bear even as she saw Joe lift a hatchet to throw. She never heard the number three. She wasn't waiting. The crack of the shot echoed through the canyon. Was it just my shot? She asked herself as she ran forward. She saw Marilyn drop to her knees and fall back, but Joe was also facedown on the ground. "Dear Lord, no!" she cried out as she ran toward her son.

 _Now what happened at the top of the escarpment with Sam and Frank…_

 _What have I done?_ Frank asked himself in horror.

"Frank! Laura would never have shot Joe and I see he's on the ground." Sam said as he scanned the scattered trees in the area at the base of the escarpment. "There!" Sam pointed to a spot at the edge of the trees where Frank had seen the blonde hair.

"It's Marilyn!" Frank said with relief as he saw the figure on the ground. Watching her movements, he could tell she had been shot but she was beginning to stand up. "No," Frank breathed as he looked to his brother's still prone form.

"Not this time," Sam said as he pulled his pistol from his holster. Taking aim, he pulled the trigger. Sam swore as the pistol wouldn't fire.

As Marilyn stood and began to move toward Joe, Frank called out, "Run, Joe!"

Frank couldn't hear the conversation between Joe and Marilyn but he saw that Marilyn was letting him stand. Then a dull gleam caught his eye. The hatchet. Joe had managed to get the hatchet before starting the hunt. Hope flared in his chest but then dampened. What good was a hatchet against a semi-automatic pistol? Turning his attention to Sam, he asked, "Sam?!"

Sam didn't even look up as he worked to take care of the casing that was causing the problem. "I should have it fixed in a minute."

Frank turned back to the scene below as he heard Marilyn call out, "One."

"No," Frank whispered. He didn't want to watch his brother die but he couldn't turn away either.

"Two," rang from the valley floor.

"Sam!" Frank called out.

"Got it!" Sam stood and brought his gun up.

A shot rang out as Joe threw his hatchet. Frank watched Marilyn fall to the ground. "You did it, Sam!" Frank jumped from the ground and hugged the older man.

Sam hugged him back but said, "I never fired, Frank. It wasn't me."

Pushing back, both men turned to the valley below. Joe was pushing himself up to a sitting position as a honey blonde figure raced across the valley. As she crumpled to the ground to envelope Joe in a hug, Frank heard Sam speak.

"It wasn't me; it was your mother. She's quite a good shot."

Frank turned surprised eyes from the scene below him to Sam. "Mom?"

Sam gave him a small smile. "Yeah, your mom."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** Glad you all enjoyed the last chapter. Now the story will be winding down quickly.

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen**

Sam and Frank stood at the top of the cliff and watched the scene below them. Laura had Joe in a tight embrace while just feet away, the crumpled form of Marilyn Laird lay on the ground. Sam called out, "Laura! Laura!" When she responded he called back down, "We'll find a spot to come down and I'll call Fenton if I get some service."

"Okay," Laura called back up and then moved back to holding Joe.

As Sam and Frank walked into the woods, Sam said, "Would you like to explain what Rachel Rand is doing here?"

Frank let out a deep breath. He'd forgotten about her. As they walked back to the makeshift camp, Frank gave a brief summary of what had happened and how Rachel was involved.

Sam whistled, "Sounds like it was a close thing. You warning Joe, I mean."

"Yeah, I don't like thinking about what would have happened if she hadn't let me go."

Sam put his arm around Frank as they walked quietly together. They found Rachel waiting at the small campsite. They had told her that Joe was all right but Marilyn was dead. She had broken into sobs, but pulled it together after a few minutes. They left everything at the camp just the way it was and headed back down the trail toward the parking area.

When they arrived at the lot it was almost dark as the sun had just set. So many thoughts ran through Frank's head. What if Joe hadn't made it? Would Marilyn have come back to the camp to kill him? Would she have killed Rachel then too? Or would she have just waited it out knowing that Joe would come? He shook his head.

"Frank?"

Looking a bit dazed, Frank turned to Sam. "What?"

"I've gotten some blankets and the flare from the car. Hey there. Are you okay?" Frank could tell by Sam's tone that he didn't think he comprehended everything.

He looked at Sam. "I'm okay."

"All right, just know it's understandable if you're not. This has all been overwhelming to say the least." Sam pulled out his cell phone and found it had one bar. "Here goes nothing." Pressing Fenton's number, he waited.

"Hardy."

Sam smiled and said, "They're okay, Fenton. Both of them."

"They're okay?"

"Yes. Frank's here with me on speaker phone."

"Frank? Are you okay?" Fenton asked.

"Yeah, dad. I'm okay. I'm not hurt."

"What about, Joe?"

"I'm- I'm not sure." Frank turned worried eyes to Sam. "There was the gunshot. He fell down."

Sam put a comforting hand on Frank's arm.

"Gunshot? Sam?"

"Fenton, as far as I know Joe doesn't have a life threatening injuries. Laura is with him, but they are at the bottom of the cliff and we were at the top. We came back to the parking area to take the lower trail, get blankets and the flare. We're taking Rachel with us."

"So she's there?"

"Yes. It's a long story. If you could get the FBI out here, that would be great. The flare should be enough for them to land a chopper in the area. Joe may need to fly out because he's bound to be exhausted."

"What about Marilyn?"

"She's dead, Fenton."

"Who?" Sam didn't need to ask what Fenton meant.

"Not sure. It was Laura or Joe but from looking at it from a distance I'm not sure."

There was a moment of silence and then Fenton spoke again. "You'll find you have a VM from me. I landed about thirty minutes ago and I'm in route. I'll see you in about forty-five minutes. The FBI may get there before I do."

"Understood," Sam said as he nudged Frank toward the trail. "We're heading to meet up with Joe and Laura now."

"Thanks, Sam. Frank?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, dad. See you soon."

"See you soon." The call disconnected.

"Let's go see your brother," Sam said as he put his arm around Frank.

.**********.

It was completely dark when Frank, Sam, and Rachel got to the place where Joe and Laura were. The two had moved so that Laura could put her back up against a tree. Joe's head was in her lap. Frank went over to them while Sam went over to Marilyn's body. Rachel had just dropped to her knees in the edge of the trees and put her face in her hands.

Frank jogged over and knelt by his brother.

"He's sleeping," Laura said softly. "He's exhausted."

Frank took in the bloody rag in Laura's hand and the blood on Joe's head. Laura's coat was over Joe's body, so Frank couldn't see any other injuries except for the torn knee of his jeans. Standing, Frank shook out the emergency blanket they had brought with them. Laura sat forward a little so that Frank could put it around her. The temperature had dropped quite a bit since sunset.

Behind him, Frank heard the telltale hiss of the flare and then the red glow appear on his mother's face indicating the flare was working fine.

"We got in touch with dad; he'll be here soon along with the FBI. He's asking that they send a chopper."

Laura looked down at Joe. "I'm glad. I don't think your brother could walk out of here."

Frank gave her a worried look. "It's just exhaustion right? We told dad there weren't any serious injuries." His voice had taken on a somewhat frantic tone as he looked at his brother.

Reaching out a hand to touch her oldest son, Laura said, "He _is_ exhausted and he hasn't eaten all day." She looked down at Joe. "He told me that he fell and hurt his knee earlier. It's sure to have stiffened up now and then he has this head wound and…" Laura's voice trailed off.

Frank frowned, "And what, mom?"

"Don't get upset Frank. It's not as bad as it sounds."

"You're making me nervous, mom. What's not as bad as it sounds?"

"He has a cut on his side. He fell on the hatchet but it's pretty shallow but will need stitches. I'm sure it's painful and stings though."

"You're right, it does sound bad. But if you're calm about it, then I will be too." He wanted to look at the wound, but that would mean moving his mom's coat, and Joe probably needed to stay warm. It wasn't like Frank was going to do first aid on the wound.

Sam walked over to join them. "No cell service out here but the flare should be good enough as a signal."

Frank's eyes strayed back to Marilyn's body. "So she's definitely…."

"Yes." It was Laura who answered."There was no way I was going to sit here with Joe injured and not know."

Frank had rarely seen this side of his mom. When he did see it was when she felt her family was in danger or that someone was attacking them in some way. It reminded him of his father. Frank looked at his mom intently. Some things that hadn't made sense were starting to fall into place. "Those days you had marked off on the calendar." It was hard to tell but he thought he saw her cheeks redden. "Were you going to the gun range?" At her nod, he added. "You're full of surprises, mom."

Laura looked over to the body and back to Frank. He could see her struggle with something internally and then she spoke. "I knew she was out there somewhere. I had to be ready. If I had come upon this scene and not been able to do what I did, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

Frank reached over and held his mother's free hand. "I'm glad you were there to do what I couldn't," he said. His eyes went to Sam's shadowed face in the light of the flare and the flashlights. "So it was mom's shot that did it?"

"I think so. It was probably the immediate cause of death but your brother was on target with his throw. There's no way she would have made it out of here alive with the injury that the hatchet caused. I doubt she would have even been able to use her gun." He turned to Laura. "But she would have gotten a shot off at Joe if you hadn't fired when you did. At the range she was at, she wouldn't have missed."

Silence enveloped them until the soft whumping sounds of chopper blades in the distance drew their attention. Ten minutes later, two choppers arrived. One was medical and one was FBI.

Joe barely came around as the medical personnel examined him on the ground. They would take him out by helicopter even though the injuries weren't life-threatening. It was decided that Sam would head back to the car and would go to the hospital and wait with Joe until the rest of the family could arrive. The FBI wanted to talk to Frank because he knew everything from the start and they wanted to talk to Laura because she was the shooter in the event. In any case, Laura wasn't in the best frame of mind to drive at the moment anyway. The events were finally catching up to her and with Joe safely in the helicopter, she felt lightheaded. Frank helped her sit back down as agents came over to talk to them.

Frank had been going over what happened when Fenton arrived on the scene. He rushed over to them and pulled Laura into his arms. "Sam told me a little of what happened. Joe's okay?"

Smiling weakly, Laura said, "He's fine. We all are."

Fenton's eyes went to the body covered with a sheet and then back to his wife. "I'm glad you insisted on that practice."

"I am too, Fenton."

An hour later and Fenton spoke with the field agent, "I think this is enough, Agent Tredski. We can talk more tomorrow. Right now, we all want to go check on Joe."

Tredsky agreed and even offered the helicopter to ride in. "It'll be faster. Give us your keys and we'll have an agent take the car to the hospital for you." Fenton thanked him and took him up on the offer. While he was certainly capable of driving to the hospital, it would be nice to just sit and relax. Something he hadn't done since Joe got that text on his birthday.

.**********.

When the Hardys arrived at the hospital, they found Sam and Joe in a regular room with the doctor in charge of the floor. As they walked in, Sam said, "And here's his family now."

Dr. Riley turned to face the family and if he was surprised at Laura's bloody clothing he didn't show it. "I'm Dr. Riley. I've reviewed the information on Joe's injuries and been briefed by the ER staff. Why don't we sit?" After everyone had a chair, he began. "Joe is suffering from mild dehydration and acute fatigue. He overworked his body and it's trying to catch up. Both of these he should be able to recover from rather quickly. He had a number of small cuts and bruises. The most serious of these are the wound from the gunshot and the cut in his side from the hatchet."

"But they're not serious right?" Frank asked as he looked over to Joe's quiet form on the bed.

"That's correct. They both required just a few stitches. He'll have some minor discomfort from these wounds but nothing that OTC pain relievers won't take care of. We'll give you instructions for cleaning the wound areas and changing the dressings before he leaves tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Laura asked in surprise.

Dr. Riley gave her a small smile. "He's getting fluid and pain medication right now but that's it. He's basically just an exhausted boy who needs to rest. Do you have any questions?"

A chorus of no's sounded and he stood and took his leave.

The Hardys and Sam gathered around Joe's bed and looked at him. It was almost as if they expected something to seriously go wrong at any moment.

"I don't think anything else is going to happen," Fenton said and at Frank's look he gave a small smile and added, "At least not tonight."

"Can I stay with him tonight?" Frank asked.

Fenton looked at his wife who turned to her son. "Yes, Frank. I had my time with Joe this evening. You can have some time with him now."

"Thanks, mom," Frank said.

"Once the FBI clears it, I'll go in and pack up your camping gear," Sam said.

Frank looked at him in surprise. "I'd forgotten all about that! Thanks, Sam."

"In the morning, I'll go out and buy both you and Joe something to wear tomorrow," Laura said and then turned to her husband. "I didn't even think about where we're going to stay tonight."

Sam's voice sounded from behind her. "I already booked us two rooms at the hotel across from here for tonight."

"I don't know what we'd do without you, Sam," Laura said with sincerity.

Sam winked at her. "It's all part of being family."

"That it is, Sam," Fenton said as he put his arm around his wife once more.

The group stayed about twenty more minutes and then left. It had been a grueling day for all of them.

Once he was alone, Frank pulled his chair closer to the bed and sat with his fingers steepled against his chin. "I told you not to do anything stupid," he said softly to his brother. He put his hands down and leaned his head back. He only meant to close his eyes for a minute but soon he was out.

Two hours later, Joe opened his eyes to see the hallmarks that appeared in all hospitals. The sounds were familiar as well. He looked around and noticed the bag of dripping fluid. He blinked sleepily. He remembered exactly what happened and his mom being there. He blinked a little more and turned his head to see his brother asleep in the chair by the bed. Frank was safe and that had been his objective in the hunt. That and take out Marilyn. He knew he was safe now. His family was safe now. Marilyn was dead. He closed his eyes and for the first time in months went to sleep without any fear of being hunted.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

 **Thanks to my Editor:** Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

 **Author's Notes:** So ends this story. I hope you enjoyed it.

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen**

Joe awoke the next morning to find Frank standing and stretching. "Hey."

Frank dropped his arms and smiled at his brother. "Hey, yourself. How are you feeling?" he asked as he walked over to Joe's bedside.

"I feel like someone beat me with a rolling pin." While Frank was laughing Joe began sitting up and pulling the blanket away.

"What are you doing?" Frank asked in concern.

Joe grabbed for the IV stand as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "They've been pumping me full of fluid, what do you think I need to do?"

Frank chuckled and then stopped when Joe wobbled as he stood up from the bed.

Joe immediately grabbed for the back of the gown as Frank helped steady him. Frowning, Joe said, "Looks like you might have to help me walk the six feet from here to the bathroom."

"I don't mind, but I'm calling for the nurse first," Frank said seriously.

"I don't need a nurse, Frank. It's just six feet," Joe said with some exasperation.

"I know. But the nurse was very specific with me last night. If you needed to get up, I was to buzz the nurse's station. Something about patient safety and liability because you're hooked up to that IV," Frank said as he nodded toward the metal stand.

"But it's six feet!" Joe said again.

"Well, there's always the bedpan."

Joe sat down. "Buzz the nurse."

Frank smiled as he pressed the call button.

The nurse checked the IV bag and disconnected it since it was empty. With the bag gone, there was no IV stand to pull around, so the nurse left Frank to take care of his brother at his request. It took only a minute for Joe to get to the bathroom. Once he was done, he walked out slowly and held on to the doorframe. As Frank came over to assist, Joe said, "I think I can make it back to the bed on my own." He paused. "But I do need you to come over here."

Frank walked over and put a hand on his brother's arm. "What is it?"

All the emotions that Joe had felt the previous night as he sat in the gathering shadows of the trees preparing to cross to the escarpment came flooding back. With his free arm, he reached out to pull his brother into a one arm embrace that was returned in full by Frank. "I was afraid she was going to kill you," he whispered into his brother's ear.

"Likewise," Frank whispered back with emotion.

Joe pulled back and asked, "How did you get away from Rachel?"

"Let's get you back in bed and I'll tell you."

Joe smiled. "I just feel really sore." Glancing down at his exposed legs as he shuffled back to the bed, he added, "And my knee really hurts." He grimaced as he sat on the bed. "And my side."

"I'll call for the nurse back to see about some pain medication." After making the call, Frank said, "Running with an uncovered hatchet was dangerous."

As Joe swung his legs back onto the bed and covered them, he responded, "Not having the hatchet would have been more dangerous."

"Agreed," Frank acknowledge.

"You were going to tell me about Rachel?"

Frank paused as the nurse came back in and gave Joe a couple of pills to take for pain. When she left, Frank explained what had happened at the camp on top of the escarpment and how Rachel had been fooled. Then he asked his own question. "In the SUV, when Rachel made one of her calls, Marilyn said she was letting you put your clothes back on. Rachel told me she was just being manipulative. Was she?"

Joe nodded. "I really hope you believe me when I say that she was just doing that to make you angry. When she, when she kissed me at camp she told me she wasn't interested but that she wanted to manipulate you."

"It worked really well," Frank said as he dropped back into his chair. "But your clothes?"

"It was just the shirt, Frank. I didn't take off my pants," he said with exasperation. "I hope you believe me."

Frank blew out a deep breath he had been holding. "Yeah. I do. She just played the part really well."

Joe shivered a little thinking about it. "Yes, she did."

"How are you going to tell mom?" Frank asked.

Eyes wide, Joe repeated, "Tell mom?"

Frank leaned forward. "Yes, mom. You know she's going to find out from the FBI interviews."

Joe closed his eyes and leaned his head back into the pillows. They crinkled quietly from the pressure. It was like the exhaustion had swept fresh over him.

"How about we let her read the depositions and if she has any questions about that, she can ask me," Frank said carefully.

Joe's eyes opened and he said, "That won't be easy for you either. You'd really do that for me?"

"After what you did for me yesterday I think it's the least I could do."

Joe looked away from the intense emotion in his brother's face. "You'd have done it for me and besides, I think I'm the one that needs to be thanking you. If you hadn't warned me-"

"When I saw you on the ground…" Frank ran a hand through his hair. "And then Sam told me mom was down there. For a moment I was afraid you'd shot each other."

"As if I'd shoot your brother," Laura's voice sounded from the doorway. "I might want to strangle him on occasion, but I'd never shoot him." It was obvious she was trying to lighten the mood. She smiled at both of the boys as she entered with Fenton behind her. He was carrying a couple of bags. "I brought you both some clothes."

Frank hopped up from the chair, "Thanks, mom!" He hugged her and took the bag that his father held in his direction. "I can't wait to get out of these clothes." In a moment he had disappeared into the bathroom.

"When do I get mine?" Joe asked as he looked with longing at the bag his father held.

"Probably about three hours," Fenton said. "The nurse on duty said that 11:00 was the release time for the day. Your mother and I completed the paperwork on our way in."

"Eleven o'clock can't come soon enough," Joe said with a sigh and then he sniffed the air. "What do I smell?"

Smiling, Laura brought a white paper bag out of her over-sized purse. "I wasn't sure how good the breakfast here was going to be so I brought you a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich." She handed him the bag and then added as she pulled a container out of her purse, "And a chocolate milk."

"Hey! Where's mine?" Frank asked as he exited the bathroom. His dark five o-clock shadow was more noticeable than Joe's blonde one.

Laura laughed. "Well, my purse was only so big. I told your father I'd take you down to the cafeteria."

Frank looked from his mom to his father who shifted slightly from foot to foot. They had all had time with Joe except for his dad. "Yeah. Sounds good to me. Maybe they'll have a buffet."

Joe mumbled something through his sandwich.

Frank just laughed and said, "I know. If I see something you love we'll bring it back." He pointed his finger at Joe. "Just know that we can't bring back the whole buffet."

After swallowing his mouthful of sandwich Joe jokingly replied, "It's nice to know that you'd try."

When Frank's stomach made an audible noise, Laura took him by the arm and led him out of the room.

Fenton walked over to an empty chair and put down Joe's bag of new clothes and then walked to the bedside.

Joe took in his dad's rather quiet demeanor and downcast expression. This wasn't his father.

"You were right and I was wrong," Fenton said seriously.

"Dad-"

Fenton held up a hand. "No. You were right. I couldn't protect you. I didn't protect you."

Joe put down the sandwich that was in his hand. It was forgotten and unimportant. "We were both right, dad."

Fenton's countenance showed that he was perplexed by Joe's statement.

"I was right in that we couldn't expect to keep her away from me. Marilyn was just too driven by revenge. But you were right when you said you'd keep me safe."

"How do you figure that, Joe? You're in the hospital." He put a shaking hand up to his head and then ran his fingers through his hair. "You almost died," he whispered as his hand dropped. "I didn't keep you safe."

Joe had figured his dad was going to have a pretty big guilt complex about what happened and he was prepared for it. "I told you the last time I was in the hospital that I wouldn't blame you for anything."

"I wasn't even HERE, Joe!" Fenton said in frustration.

"No, but you were on your way home. All evidence pointed to Canada but you came back. YOU were the one who had Sam and mom drive out to the park. If you hadn't done that, then yeah, I might be dead. But I'm not, and it's thanks to you and your instincts. I trust you with my life dad. Always have. Always will." Joe ended softly.

Fenton nodded. "I suppose I should believe you shouldn't I?"

"It would be the smart thing to do on this occasion since I'm an expert on guilt," Joe said with a smile. "Plus, I think that you should talk to Dr. Childers yourself."

Fenton stared at his son for a moment and then burst out laughing. "I will, Joe, but I think this conversation just went a long way into helping set my thinking straight."

"Good," Joe said with a smile. "I'll send you my bill." The mood was much lighter as the two talked for awhile about what had been going on with the search in Canada. Then Joe turned more serious. "I do have a question about what happened. I think mom may have told me last night, but I don't remember."

"What is it, son?"

"Did I kill Marilyn or did mom?" Joe's eyes were locked on his father's. He was searching for clues about the truth of what happened, but he couldn't read anything in their dark depths. Joe's hands clenched the sheets on the bed as he waited for an answer.

"We don't have the official coroner's report but I'd go with Sam's take on things most any day when it comes to wounds from weapons." He paused for a moment. "Sam says that it was your mother's shot that probably killed her but your throw was accurate. Marilyn would have never left that spot."

Joe nodded as his hands relaxed. "Mom fired right before she counted. Marilyn didn't get her shot off." He looked his dad in the eye. "She wouldn't have missed."

"Not at that range," Fenton agreed and the thought of what would have happened if she had fired hung in the air.

"I still wouldn't have blamed you. My goal was to live, but if I couldn't then I was going to make sure that Frank did."

Fenton's eyes had misted up. Joe was a much stronger young man than he had been a year ago. "We lived weeks without you last year. I'm glad it didn't turn into a permanent way of life this year."

"Me too," Joe whispered back. His forehead wrinkled as another thought came to his mind. "When did mom learn to shoot like that?"

Fenton gave a small smile as he explained things to his younger son.

Joe's eyes widened as his mom and brother walked into the room. "Mom, you've been taking martial arts?" Joe was pleased to see the surprised look on Frank's face as well.

Laura's face reddened as she frowned at her husband.

"I didn't see a need to keep it secret that you wanted to protect your sons."

Frank's mouth dropped open. "Mom!"

"I wasn't planning on attacking anyone unless they attacked you first."

Frank shook his head. "You never cease to amaze me, mom."

"Same goes for me," Fenton said with a warm smile while Laura reddened again.

.**********.

Once Joe was out of the hospital, they began their debriefings with the FBI. They finished everything up and were cleared to return to Bayport Monday night. Fenton and Laura rode together while Frank and Joe followed them in the van. Sam had returned home Sunday evening.

As Fenton and Laura rode along the interstate, he cast several unsubtle looks at his wife.

"I'm fine," she responded.

"Joe told me yesterday that I should talk with Dr. Childers. I think it might help you as well," he said in a cautious tone.

Laura laughed softly. "Don't worry, Fenton, I'm not going to snap at you for suggesting therapy. I'll be happy to talk to Dr. Childers." She laid her head back against the headrest and looked at her husband's profile. "I don't have any guilt over what I did. I could tell Joe was exhausted when I came around those trees and when I saw Marilyn with her gun… well, she made her choice and I made mine. It'll be one that I will be happy to live with every day when I see Joe."

Fenton nodded. He would have felt the same if it had been him. He had told Joe in Michigan that he would have pulled the trigger on Laird without hesitation if he had had the chance in that situation. It looked like guilt wouldn't play a part in their lives from this event.

Over in the van, Joe and Frank had moved past talking about what had happened over the weekend and were talking about the upcoming baseball season. Joe would have an uncomfortable return to school in a couple of days, but it was something he had had to deal with twice this school year- His return from being kidnapped and hunted. His return after Camille had tried to kill him twice, and now this. Thankfully, it wasn't every day that students returned to their school with gunshot wounds but as such, he would definitely be the object of curiosity and interest.

"Mom says that you'll go back to school on Wednesday. I'll get together with the gang and we'll run interference for you like before."

Joe chuckled. "I hope this is the last time you have to do that."

"Me too. But I'm happy to do it for you," Frank said as he drove.

"I hope the most excitement we have for the rest of the school year is a wild pitch."

"Hey!" Frank said jokingly. "I don't throw wild pitches!"

"Sure you don't," Joe said in a condescending tone.

"It was just one time!"

"Cost us the game," Joe joked back. "Callie should have never worn those short shorts to the game." Joe could see his brother's face turning red.

"That wasn't it," Frank said.

"Is there another reason?" Joe teased.

"Well… I don't remember, but I'm sure there was."

The laughing and joking continued as they followed their parents back to Bayport. The fear of Marilyn Laird was gone from their lives. The question was… what new adventure would be on the horizon for the boys?

.*.*.*.*.

* * *

 _Next up is a six chapter story called "Wild Pitch." It is a much tamer story than these last three. ;-) I'll begin posting it in early January 2016. Be on the lookout!_


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